


Dartboard

by V6ilill



Series: Shooting star falls fast, falls far [2]
Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual aromantic Captain, Autistic Captain, Autistic Character, Body Horror, Coincidences, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Crime Fighting, Dark Comedy, Developing Friendships, Disappointment, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Estonian Martin Callahan, Friendship, Gen, Grimdark, Humor, Not Beta Read, Random - Freeform, Robotophobic Captain, SAM doesn't exist, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Team as Family, Tragedy, Tragedy/Comedy, Violence, Weirdness, rivals to friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-01-26 04:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 77
Words: 154,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21367921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V6ilill/pseuds/V6ilill
Summary: What is functionally immortal, while defying common sense and lacking a self-preservation instinct?The captain of the Unreliable.-This epic tale of botched plots and mishandled social issues is brought to you by Author In Need Of Therapy, whose literary accomplishments include needing a spellchecker despite being trilingual!Starring:Every Backstory Cliche Ever as The CaptainMiss Fenhill as F is for FuckerFelix Millstone as Token Straight ManParvati as winner of the "Most Inconsistent Character" awardand Martin Callahan as The Guy Who Is Shoved In At The Last MinuteFeaturing literal crack, metaphorical crack, space crack, totally-not-crack, head-against-keyboard writing, sudden-onset grimdark and an acute case of running-out-of-jokes-itis.Read now, or you might actually do something productive instead!
Relationships: ADA & Female Captain (The Outer Worlds), ADA & The Captain (The Outer Worlds), Ellie Fenhill & ADA, Ellie Fenhill & Felix Millstone, Felix Millstone & Martin Callahan, Martin Callahan & Ellie Fenhill, Martin Callahan & Felix Millstone, Martin Callahan & Parvati Holcomb, Martin Callahan & The Captain, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Parvati Holcomb & ADA, Parvati Holcomb & Ellie Fenhill, Parvati Holcomb & Felix Millstone, Sanjar Nandi & The Captain, The Captain & Ellie Fenhill, The Captain & Felix Millstone, The Captain & Parvati Holcomb, The Captain & Parvati Holcomb & Felix Millstone, The Captain & Phineas Welles
Series: Shooting star falls fast, falls far [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560577
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	1. Polite Awakening

“May?” Anastasiya approached her, long white hair sticking up in every direction. 

“Huh?” her 'friend' turned, small size cryosuit in hand. 

“I just learned that hairpins are indeed allowed . . . let me borrow yours, will you?” she looked so much older than fifty-three with her hair all over the place. 

“Uh, sure . . . so, see you on the other side, Anastasiya?” May pulled the orange bauble out of her black bundle of keratin. 

“Yes, May. Nothing will ever be the same for us.” the older woman looked out wistfully to the sky. 

“That’s the spirit! Halcyon System, here I come!” May smiled as wide as she could. 

“My ears! Keep your voice down!” Anastasiya clutched her head. 

-

May first realized that her future was not as advertised when, instead of waking up at a nice, clean colonial starship, she was politely roused in what looked to be an extremely suspicious garage (which probably violated every safety protocol ever instated in the history of humanity). By an extremely suspicious old guy who seemed like a crook.

Who really seemed like a crook, because he apparently kept a wanted poster of himself around. And the price for his death was quite high, which swung the crime scale from common robber to space terrorist. May was a bit immobilized in her cryopod (former cryopod, what was he doing with it?), so she couldn't exactly ask nicely.

Also, her face really hurt . . . had she been smiling all this time in cryosleep?

For . . . seventy years?

Why was she supposed to help a totally-not-a-space-terrorist revive the rest of the colonists? Wasn’t that, like, the job of someone more law-abiding?

. . . that didn’t make any sense. So, naturally, like any almost-completely immobilized person in an awkward situation, May rolled her eyes.

“Ah, establishing synergy and rapport already!” her new (lord and master) employer smiled his totally-not-ripping-you-off-for-personal-gain smile “Don’t worry, numbness of the face is normal after smiling for so long and will - hopefully - subside! . . . That wasn’t very reassuring, I know.”

If not for May’s perma-frozen grin (ouch ouch oww), she’d be asking a lot of questions, especially since reviving a person from suspended animation and converting a cryopod into a drop-pod didn’t belong on the same curriculum.

Unfortunately, all she could do at the moment was keep smiling and hope her enthusiasm would do the rest (and that the makeshift drop-pod actually worked, because no amount of enthusiasm could save her from burning up in the atmosphere).

And so, from the bowels of a secret lab, a terror was released upon the world. A . . . rather small terror. With pointy eyebrows. And a shit-eater grin. The 'dangerous lab experiment' sounded a lot scarier when it was left up for imagination, no?


	2. Not as advertised

May looked at the suitcase, then at the notice board. A suitcase just like this one had indeed gone missing. The owner lived on the 5th floor, next to May’s own flat.

The girl heaved the suitcase upon her shoulder and pressed the elevator button.

(Left door, not right door. Left door, not right door) she thought as the elevator rapidly brought her up to her doom. The doors opened and she saw the challenge which she needed to overcome.

May rang the doorbell. A middle-aged woman opened the door. She was smiling, like she was about to hit May or start taking pictures. The girl raised the suitcase in defense of her fragile flesh.

“My case!” the woman took it “Thank you.”

“Why’s there that smell?” she asked “You not will hit me?”

“Why would I do that?” she pretended to be surprised “You do know that no one should ever hit you?”

“Um . . . oh, I could make introduction name date. I is May Keo,” the child remembered how much formal introductions mattered “What’s frying there in doors space house?”

“I’m baking a pie,” said the neighbor “My name is Anastasiya Kovalenko. Nice to meet you, May.”

“Not common people don’t say you are nice to meet,” rambled May “I extras next door. Left door, not right door.”

And that was how May found a friend.

Well, a “friend”.

-

May’s lord and master employer appeared to her once more on a screen of some kind in the drop-pod, which May considered a bit redundant, but okay, whatever and then she was free to fall to her doom down to Earth 2.0 (which some pretentious fucks had named Terra 2, but the joke was on them).

Earth 2.0 had rings. May decided that it was indeed awesome enough for her to want to grace it with her presence. Because rings.

She landed awkwardly, but very successfully for someone confined to a coffin-sized cryopod converted into a drop-pod (she understood that cryopods had to be small, but she was really gonna start developing claustrophobia at some point from how similar they were to glass caskets). After a moment of silence for the now-ruined pea pod, May realized that she could move. And that there were buttons on the top side of her enclosure. Putting two and two together to make five, she reached her hand up and started mashing them with her wrist (her fingers, as it turned out, hadn’t quite thawed yet).

Mashing buttons always worked and May tumbled out of her sarcophagus, her face being first to come into contact with the alien planet.

And that was when she found out about the tracker on her wrist.

The tracker. She was being monitored like a lad rat, like a test subject, like before. What she had sought to escape was already here, waiting for her. There really was no escape.

Also, the interstellar smuggler sent to pick her up or something (whoops, should’ve paid more attention to Phineas and not the scenery, my bad, sorry) was very dead indeed.

May poked the wires on her wrist and was harshly reprimanded, resolving to tear off the tracker whenever her employer had a lapse of concentration.

But more importantly, the view was, quite literally, to die for. It was awesome. Epic. Amazing. The universe liked Earth 2 and had put a ring on it and May just wanted to draw what she saw in the sky. She made it to higher ground and sat down, drinking in the scenery, attempting not to choke on the sheer coolness of what she saw. She was definitely drawing it, just as soon as she found a good touch-pad somewhere (and if they sold those at the same exorbitant prices as back on Earth, then someone was losing theirs).

“Shouldn’t you be looking for Hawthorne’s ship?” Phineas was back to nag at her “If the marauders get to it first, you won’t be able to just ask nicely. Or did they teach lab assistants to fight back then?”

“If it can go wrong, it will go wrong,” stated May “Why bother?”

“Everything will go wrong eventually, so you better get a move on.”

“Uh, fair enough,” she stood up and not-drunkenly stumbled somewhere.

On the way to somewhere she met some totally-not-dogs who barked at her and made other threatening gestures. Not being intimidated by a few puppies, May barked at them and they ran away, seemingly out of sheer confusion. Then May looted a nifty inhaler off a very grimy corpse (wonder what drugs they do in the future? Could I try? Should I try?) and some bottled healing syrup, which, apparently, cured all manners of wounds (could I get high on it? . . . damn old addiction, always cropping up at the most inopportune of moments . . .). Then she punched a rat (a rat IN SPESS, that was) and fell down a crevice which she totally should’ve seen coming.

It opened into a nice cave where she found another human being - this time living. After converting the remains of his shirt into a makeshift bandage and hearing the worst slogan ever five times over, she asked him if he knew anything about the Hope.

He thought it was a drug (where can I get some? Wait, no, stop this!).

That confirmed May’s suspicions that she wasn’t being told some crucial information (ha, as if it wasn’t obvious from the get-go).

“Hey, about those bandits outside . . . what if I took care of them and you got to claim the credit?” she told her new buddy (who seemed quite . . . what was the word? Cute. She’d be darned if she knew anything about beauty, being a solo flyer and all that) “I mean, you’re obviously in no state to fight and I’m not a guard.”

Her buddy (should’ve asked his name) agreed and handed her his extremely reliable pistol and a saber (which was one pretentious way of naming a sword).

Her buddy (really should’ve asked his name) had also constructed a barricade of barrels which exploded when shot at.

With a bunch of raiders waiting outside.

“Please don’t shoot at a huge stack of explosive barrels in a cave full of flammable supplies,” said Phineas “It might not go as well as you’d hope . . . just saying.”

“My thoughts exactly,” May began the tedious task of removing the barrels one by one “Some moron blows himself up in a cave, well, good for him, but not on my watch. He can commit suicide by idiocy later.”

“Suicide by idiocy is an actual cause of death, you know. Tends to get applied to those who sunbathe in a minefield or eat the flesh of wild canids,”

“Really? A lot has changed in the past seventy years.”

May cleared a hole big enough for her to slip through and saw the awesome landscape once more. She also saw some living humans (some more living humans). She waved to them cheerfully and two of the three immediately took note of her and aimed their guns accordingly. The third was cooking.

“Don’t talk to marauders! Shoot them, dammit!” shouted Phineas “Or your head will be stewing in that soup pot instead of saltuna!”

“Oh, okay then,” said May and pulled the trigger.

The raiders really lacked common sense, what with having an explosive crate in their camp. The first raider died quickly and painlessly as burning shrapnel punctured his armor and set him on fire. The second had a helmet far too flimsy for his own good (and nice long flammable hair, if May could say so herself). The cook was taken out with two shots to the head. His blood became the broth for whatever he’d been cooking.

And that was when Phineas began having communication problems.

It’s about time smirked May as she looted clean the remains of the campsite. She found a grand total of nothing except for a suspicious bottle (the drugs . . . of the future! Wait, no, that’s just water. Why does the label say it’s caffeinated though?).

May’s ordeal was far from over, however, as more raiders appeared on the horizon. After dealing with them, she found out that:

a) Communicating with them really was pointless (would’ve been awkward if that wasn’t the case, eh?)  
b) A cryosuit wasn’t very good at stopping bullets  
c) Spacer’s Choice weapons were just as bad as advertised  
d)Keeping a loaded Spacer’s Choice gun on one’s person wasn’t a good idea (ow ow ow)  
e)Even after all this time, she still couldn’t quite stop smiling (yeowch)  
f)Apparently she could . . . slow down time? . . . somehow? . . . for some reason? . . . she would need to do a bit more research on that.  
g)There were more guards. They were there to file a landing violation, not deal with the raider menace. As expected, they were very useful at helping her actually fight the raiders.  
h)The raiders employed dogs. Dogs bit through cryosuits.  
i)May really needed a hairpin ASAP.  
j)She shouldn’t have given her hairpin to Anastasiya. Disaster always struck when her trusty pin was away.  
k)Hawthorne had (had had) a hella cool ship.

. . . and that was why she was coming to steal it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the stuff in () is mostly May's thoughts because I can't italicize to save my life


	3. Fun in the Future

They said that robots could never attain sentience. They said that no machine would ever rise to the level of humanity, that not even an exception would never be capable of true thought, of true feeling.

They said that a Home Assistance Module just happened to be stranded in the wilderness without an owner. They said that it had taken in an abandoned child just because of its childcare routines. They said that it had provided for this child, stolen for it due to a simple flaw in its programming.

They said that what May felt towards HAM were just her own feelings, projected onto an inanimate object. They said that she had no need to cry for him, for he was never alive, like a table or couch (would you cry if you saw a couch destroyed, May? Why do you feel sad then for that machine?). They said that she was mad (am I? Are you?) because she had been deprived of human contact as a small child, that she would always be deficient in this regard.

They said what they said, May knew what she knew, what she had always known.

-

Therefore, it was of no surprise, that when May met ADA, she gained some respect towards the late captain. Not enough respect to keep her from laughing over his untimely demise (that drop-pod had surprisingly good aim) and stealing his ship. (nobody programmed their AI to feel sad upon their death. No one thought of their death so thoroughly. No one wants to.) (I don’t want to think thoroughly about my impending doom either, so let’s leave it at that)

The only problem was that the only . . . regulator thing needed to repair the ship in the vicinity was (extremely conveniently) plugged into the grid of a nearby town (hey, so, I need to repair this ship that’s kind of- well of course it is my ship, did I ever imply otherwise? And I need this power regulator object that I heard you have one in your power grid, so maybe I can borrow it? No? Well, maybe you have a spare conveniently laying around???)

And as soon as May exited the ship, the guards who had done nothing but gawk at the raiders while she slew them decided she was someone they could get away with harassing.

Fortunately for them, May was not in the mood for murder.

“You misunderstand, my good madam, for I am a humble starship safety inspector,” she explained to them in her most (laughably cringy) suave tone “And I have determined that this vessel was forced to make an emergency landing due to some problems with its engine. Why, the owner of this fine craft would’ve used the landing pad, if it weren’t for the nature of their predicament.”

And the guards actually fell for it.

“Whatever the nature of their predicament be, they’re still paying that fine,” concluded the guard captain “Thanks for the raport, inspector, although I wasn’t informed of your arrival. Any idea why?”

“Something must’ve happened to the paperwork,” said May and fled the scene as inconspicuously as she could.

She, having no idea where the nearest town was located (should’ve asked), wandered blindly until greeted with a raider encampment.

The lookout was quickly shot to death, rousing all the other raiders and destroying any chance of May stealthing it out. Only when one marauder charged her with a tossball stick and the others began having fun like they were at a shooting range did May think that maybe, just maybe, she should’ve made a plan of attack.

Only when she began dueling one marauder with her sword (oh, sorry, SABER) and the rest rained bullets her way like there was no tomorrow, did she realize that maybe, just maybe, she was very screwed.

Fortunately for her, the bandits had aim even worse than hers and ended up killing their buddy by accident. May, being a born improviser, took a breather while cowering under his corpse. After inhaling a dozen units of totally-not-crack-this-stuff-actually-heals, she peeked out and took aim.

Then time slowed and she was treated to a raider’s head exploding in slow motion (these helmets are real shoddy, gotta watch out). Then another raider took his fallen brethren’s place and the shootout resumed. While reloading, May also realized that unlike in the movies, these raiders knew how to flank her.

With two raiders to the right of her and one to the left, May thought that maybe, just maaaybe she wasn’t as good of a fighter as she considered herself to be.

As a bullet bounced off of the corpse on top of her, May fell still, arms splayed out, her pistol falling out of her fingers. The raiders, still being morons, came closer to loot whatever stuff of hers that wasn’t (completely) riddled with bullet holes. Then May “came back to life” (like once before, start seeing a pattern?) and shot two bandits dead.

The third pulled out a mallet. May let out a high-pitched scream and he clutched his head in pain. Not for long though, as she used the final bullet on him, ridding him of needing to purchase painkillers.

May dusted herself off and walked (well, okay, stumble-crawled) to loot the raider gang’s hideout. Unlike the previous gang’s hideout, this one was well-furnished and full of goodies which were niw hers (yes yes yesss! Gimme gimme gimme!). Marauding (IN SPESS!) sure paid well. May was glad to continue the tradition.

Alas, there was no hairpin in sight. Bastards. On the bright side, May found inhalable drugs. On the less bright side, she was now a recovered addict in possession of mind-altering substances. In simpler terms, she was now extremely screwed.

(don’t do it)  
(yess gimme)  
(no)  
(finally)  
(no)  
(I’ve waited for long enough)  
(I can’t, I shouldn’t)  
(the solution is right here)  
(not again)  
May inhaled and felt good.  
(here we go again)  
The world became gray and meaningless. She didn’t care about her hairpin or the corpses surrounding her, didn’t care about her friends still on the Hope, didn’t care about her multitude of healing wounds. Didn’t care that her friends were supposed to be with her, that Anastasiya and Nathanael said they’d be with her, always and forever (traitors).

She remembered that she was supposed to go to town (what town? Guess I’ll just have to find out) and began stumble-crawling somewhere. After tripping over a log (IN SPESS) and following a yellow brick road (or, rather, a random dirt path), May found the town of Hedgewater. Their logo was the worst ever. They also had a graveyard twice the size of the village.

A man (gravedigger?) approached her.

“Halt hello very weatherly meeting for places resting in black morning late sky,” May greeted him “Suppose you despair on agony withered planets over high scopes in my name not found inconclusive.”

The man stopped in his tracks.

“Bothering someone flyer flier arriving newly fresh with peas nice in evening many holes healing nonsense,” she continued “Alien salad from betrayal! Betrayal! I don’t wish vile in three five six stop the spinning pencils. Lead frivolously bets made in silence water lava burned hot piles of touching dogs.”

“Look,” the man pointed to the side “Over there.”

May followed the motion of his hand and saw water (sea?).

“From hollow hopes hallways lead vinegar vignettes violently week hush ascendance,” May stumbled towards the water like a crab on two feet “Juniper sucking foce power. Betrayal! Newly minty.”

The man muttered what sounded like a prayer, but May could care less.

Her cryosuit dangled off of her frame in tatters, probably making her look like a stripper, but May was too high (in the sky) to be bothered with such earthly concerns. The sea was cool. She was definitely drawing it. In the sand and gravel. It was gonna be a masterpiece for the ages.

(one line here, another there . . . why’s there sand up my nostrils? WTF am I doing?)

And then it all went dark.


	4. Public Relations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for sexual assault at the end there!

“Ham! Up!” said May.

“Your weight exceeds my carrying capacity,” he informed her.

“Why?” asked the small child.

“You have grown exponentially in the past five months,” said the robot.

“How?” wondered May.

“By consuming nutrients in a manner appropriate for your age,”

“I not understand,”

“If my calculations are correct, then one day, you will,”

“Uh . . .”

-

(dad?)  
(he’s dead)  
(Nate? Ann?)  
(they’re all gone. Everyone leaves you eventually)  
(why though?)  
(you’re the dartboard - everyone wants a round)

May woke up pretty much naked with her face in the sand and her hair in complete disarray (damn you, you illusive hairpins!). She remembered how she attempted to talk to someone in a drug haze (oops). Someone from the nearby town (oops). Someone from the nearby town from which she was attempting to get a power regulator (oh shit) (oh fuck).

May decided that she really needed to take care of those pesky Public Relations before the nice locals decided she was just another drug-addled marauder (wasn’t she, though?). She also needed to find some clothes.

And what better way to find clothes than to head out naked in a marauder encampment?

May peeked out from the house she was hiding behind and counted five, seven, nine raiders in total. No dogs, though - then she’d already be dead (damn mongrels with their damn sense of smell). She proceded to have a realization (about the truth of life and the universe) that maybe fighting nine bandits with one malfunctioning pistol and a flimsy kinda-sword while wearing a cryosuit-turned-loincloth wasn’t a very good idea. Instead . . . instead she could steal from the raiders.

May crawled out from her hiding place and traversed the rocky terrain (owowowow) to hide behind another house. There she found a crate with some banana-wannabes (YOU CALL THAT A BANANA, PUNY SPACERS? Oh. you don’t call it a banana. Whoops, my bad).

Then she was approached by a raider. A raider armed with a huge shotgun (oh shit) (OH FUCK).

The raider looked at her almost-naked form and found something to admire (how? Well, to each their own . . .).

May pointed to a nearby bush and winked (ewewewewewew). The bandit understood her (thinly veiled) hint and off they went for some privacy (ewewewewewew).

As soon as they were in the bush, May stabbed the raider to death with her sword.

And took his armor. Well, “armor”. Helmet too (no inhalants this time? What a shame). She left the cryosuit (and tracker, good riddance) to rot there and went on her merry way.

Unfortunately, May got lost. She only realized that when flying manta rays (!!!) assaulted her from every direction. Not wanting to destroy her new clothes, May fled like the brave warrior she was.

She arrived at Edgewater in the afternoon. Not daring to come into the town proper, May decided to see the gravedigger she’d spooked and apologize.

As soon as he saw her coming, the man began turned pale as a ghost and began reciting a prayer. May decided to leave him be.

Next stop: the authorized landing pad. It didn’t look like much, but there she met a local. A local who insisted (insisted!) that the robots from a nearby ruin were coming to kill them all. Said there was an advance scout just next to the town walls.

“Yes, sir!” she saluted “Consider that machine deader than the deadest dead!”

Then she got the fuck away. Was this robot army actually dangerous? She’d have to see for herself.

The scout was just a malfunctioning mechanical looking for a repair bay  
(no. I can’t do this)  
(how else you gonna get these people to like you?)  
(I can’t. It doesn’t deserve this)  
(what if it breaks down further and goes homicidal? It does happen sometimes)  
(no)  
(you can’t fix it. Put it out of its misery. It can’t feel pain)

May felt time slowing once again (this isn’t what I want). She took aim at the blue point (you won’t feel a thing). One shot (sorry). Two shots (I didn’t mean for it to take so long). Three shots (it’s okay it’s okay it’ll all be over soon). Four shots.

(..............................................)

The robot sputtered one last time and clattered to the ground (the only one who felt pain is you, May. How does it feel to be a wuss?). Time returned to its normal flow and May left the remains of the robot there, unburied.

“Excellent job, soldier,” said the nutjob who had sent her there “See, I have this secret weapon . . .”

. . . which he of course kept in a toilet. Because a public toilet (IN SPESS) was totally the most inconspicuous place to hide a secret superweapon against a robot invasion that you insist (insist!) is coming. So, May was forced to come to town and collect this “superweapon”.

For her part, May spent a good ten minutes staring at the toilet pot.

But apparently not even an old loon was crazy enough to hide his prized possessions inside a lavatory. May retrieved the weapon mod (how am I supposed to install this? I’m a scientist not an engineer!) and resumed her search for good deeds for the day (and drugs) (stop).

She stepped into a church (bad idea) and agreed to retrieve some vicar dude’s book (heretical book!), agreed to find some worker dude’s drugs (split the loot?) (seriously, stop) . . .

. . . and found herself before quite the scene. The door to one domicicle was open, a man standing before a frightened woman.

“Louise!” the man cried “You are mine, don’t you dare deny it!”

“No, no, leave me be,” she sobbed, cornered like a caged rat.

May had seen enough.

“STOP RIGHT THERE, CRIMINAL SCUM!” she pointed her gun at the guy.

The man took out his own pistol (here’s to not resolving stuff with violence) and aimed at May. She slowed down time (for the first time voluntarily) and (literally) dodged a bullet. She fired a warning shot - into the wall, not the slimy bastard’s face. He squealed like a pig and escaped (why shoot at someone if all you want is to escape?) through the window (HOW).

“If he comes ‘round again, call for help,” May said to the woman “I’d pursue him, but I don’t want to get sued for murder.” (if only he was a marauder)

“You ruined everything,” she continued sobbing “If he had . . . if he had harmed me, then he’d be fined for damage of company assets. Now . . . now I have to pay for damage to my domicicle.”

“You didn’t ruin the house, I did. I sould pay,” said May.

“I rent the domicicle, I’m responsible for any destruction it incurs,” Louise crossed her arms “Isn’t that clear?”

(what if he comes back?)

“Next time, shoot him,” May left her gun with the lady.

Then she smoothed out her “armor”, took of her helmet and prepared an extra dose of enthusiasm. She was meeting the mayor, after all.


	5. Mobile Surveillance Unit

“Hey there, May,” Nate offered her a hand to high-five “Remember the game we played?”

“How could I forget the ridiculousness of it all, Bloke?”

“My surname is Blake and that’s not a typo!” Nathanael’s face reddened “So I was doing level fifteen and then suddenly this boss from before ambushes me . . .”

“Let me guess: he forgot to level grind and you got a cathartic victory?”

“Well, yeah, but also this: Lord Daemonicus attacks you with sword! He punctures your head! He sprains your thigh!”

May giggled like a little girl.

“You receive 0.1 damage,” continued Nathanael “You’d think that getting your head punctured would be a little more damaging, but no, apparenty.”

“It just works,” said May “It just works this way.”

-

“Good day to you, kind sir!” May smiled widely at the local leader (this is gonna suck) “My name is May and I would very much like to know if you happen to know the location of any spare power regulators in the vicinity.”

The man (Mr. Tobson???) looked at her arms which were flapping about like laundry in a breeze. Then at her smile which seemed to widen impossibly with every passing second. Then at her left foot (they all notice eventually).

“Well,” he coughed “No one has been bold enough to ask something like that of me in years.”

(this is going so well I can’t even-)

“I need to repair my spaceship,” said May (do you really? Nothing will change if you don’t).

“As a matter of fact, there is a, shall we say, spare, power regulator in the old botanical garden,” continued the corporate official “In order for you to use it, you need to reroute the power from an abandoned station.” (there sure are a lot of ruins around here)

“Why is the power going to some empty garden?”

“It’s occupied, you see. By deserters. Your need gives me an opportunity to bring them back into the fold. I want you to-”

(you don’t need that ship. It’s not yours. You can’t steal power from the people)

“-and one more thing,” the man (finally) finished “Parvati!”

“Yessir?” the cannery worker (why is she still here?) turned around.

“Why don’t you serve as a guide for our esteemed visitor?”

“........!.......” sai May “.......!!!......!!!”

(a mobile surveillance unit to watch over me)  
(a loyal lapdog to ensure the will of her master)  
(they’re always watching)  
(what would happen to me now if I deviated?)  
(why can’t they ever leave me alone?)

“Let’s go,” Parvati ushered May out.

“So, uh, I’m Parvati Holcomb,” she said while the elevator whirred and buzzed around them “And you?”

“.........”

“You were so grandiloquent before Reed Tobson,” reminded the human tracker “What’s gotten to you?”

“.......”

“So, uh, I’m not so sure about uprooting the deserters from their home. Maybe we could ask the vicar for, y’know, advice?”

“........” (less of a corporate lapdog than I thought)

“. . . I’ll take that as a yes.”

“..............”

“. . . what happened to your foot?”

(DIIIIE IN FIREEEE)

May sent her a death glare strong enough to pierce flesh and shatter bone.

“Sorry sorry sorry,” Parvati raised her arms like she was guilty of something “Just curious.”

“. . . my name is May Keo,” mumbled the pitiable reject (nice show of self-confidence, May. Are you always this presentable when faced with a nice mechanic girl who wants to get to know you better?) “. . . let’s stop for a drink and then go seek spiritual advice, yes?”

“As you say, boss,”

“Ever heard of the Hope?” May asked her new (mobile!) tracker “You know, colonial starship?”

“Heard t’was the second colony ship ever made. Heard it went missing and never arrived,” Parvati explained “The 60th anniversary of its disappearance came around recently, you know.”

(only I can save Ann and Nate)  
(only I can save everyone else)

So that was why she had to revive them all with the help of a space terrorist. It was all a conspiracy of the government (a conspiracy, I tell you! THEY are plotting against us!) (in another life, you’d have made a good actor, May).

After getting some “water” and talking to the vicar (not like I learned anything new, but hey, whatever makes my tracker happy . . .), the dynamic duo was all set and ready to go.

First stop: Abernathy’s drugs.

The place was full of raiders in all shapes and sizes, so May deemed it safer to sneak inside (and leave Parvati outside). Inside were even more raiders and they had taken the high ground. Also, an extremely stoned bandit was coming her way.

May quickly hid in a corner. The woman passed her by so close that May could feel her foul breath on her face (ewewewewewew). The adventurer, feeling her heart hammering in her throat, beelined “stealthily” to the other end of the hallway.

There was another stoned raider (how many drugs are there here, seriously?) in the next room. He was, unfortunately, far too stoned to notice May who zipped right past him (xx_StealthyNinja_xx, amirite?) (please don’t remind me of that) (stop it. Get some help).

May climbed up some stairs, almost slipped on a puddle of vomit and finally, the drugs were all hers (nononono, Abernathy’s). She snatched the case full of sweet release and the marauders noticed.

And began firing.

Only then did May remember that she had given up her gun just the other day.

(oH SHIT OH FUCK OH SHIT OH FUCK)

May swung her saber at the closest raider, then sprinted down the stairs. She passed the too-stoned-to-care dude by and managed to stab the lady bandit before she realized what the commotion was really about. She dashed to the door, hearing gunshots behind her

May flew out of the front door, free as a bird . . .

. . . if one disregarded the fact that she was in the middle of a raider camp with a Spacer’s Choice weapon and pretty much no armor.

But you see, May could slow down time.

She found out that time slowed for her too, not just for the raiders - but it still gave her enough of a headstart to dash into the bushes where Parvati was waiting. Together, they ran wild and ran free, the bandits giving up and returning to get even higher.

After taking a few deep breaths, May came to a realization.

She had a superpower. A motherFRICKIN’ SUPERPOWER. She was a damn superhero, with a tragic backstory to boot. All she had to do now was make a costume, invent a catchphrase and start fighting crime from the rafters.

This was just stupendous (inventing new word now, May?). Utterly ridiculous. It was so awesome, what could she do? Could she speed up time too? Could she move faster in slow-time? Could she make others see time like she did? To what extent could she slow time? For what amount of time?

(I’M A SUPERHERO AN ACTUAL SUPERHERO THIS IS THE FRICKING BEST THIS IS AWESOME THIS IS SO COOL I CAN’T EVEN BEGIN I’M GONNA DO SO WELL)

(well now, don’t get so excited. You have so many people to save)

(too many)

(far too many)


	6. No love, no friendship

Parvati didn’t know how to feel about her new situation. On one hand, fighting marauders was . . . exciting, she supposed. So was adventuring, sleeping under the open skies, helping the people, being a FRIGGING ADVENTURER, as her new boss had so handily called their state of existence.

On the other hand, miss Keo, was, well, weird. She practically oozed untrustworthiness every step of the way. Her face was all wrong, like she forced herself to make completely unfitting expressions. Her hands were always swinging around when she wasn’t holding anything. And when May idled, she would swing on her toes or shake her fingers as if they were covered in something highly disgusting. Nonstop. For hours at a time.

“May?” she asked “Why’s it so that you want a power regulator?”

“To repair the- my ship,” the woman turned to her, smiling inappropriately.

“Is a starship really worth uprooting the deserters to you? Destroying their home? Forcing them to our way of life?” continued Parvati “‘Cause I know a guy who deserted - used to be friends. And many others. They’re not evil . . . just disagree with company policy. Misguided, sure, but I think they deserve to live as they want to.”

“.......” said May “Hard to explain. Long, many words. Need think.”

This too: one moment, May was eloquent and flowery, making speeches like it was no big deal, the next she couldn’t get a word out of her mouth. Parvati felt like the stranger genuinely couldn’t get her thoughts together, something stopping her from speaking.

“So,” May took a deep, deep breath “So you know the Hope. Lost long ago. That’s not true. Seventy years ago, I bought a place. A ticket. With friends. Now I arrived. Others still asleep. I need save them all.”

May looked disgusted and very out of breath.

Parvati was confused.

-

Abernathy’s drugs weren’t inhalants - just some good old medicine (how disappointing) (how nice). The little heretical tome of extreme heresy was hidden away in a cave. Guarding it were flying manta ray. They had lots of teeth. May began counting.

“One, two, three . . .” she counted as the creatures descended upon her.

“Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen . . .” she continued as the critters found Parvati very appetizing.

“Thirty four, thirty five, thirty six . . . Parvati! How can I continue if you’ve squashed them all into paste?”

“Don’t,” said Parvati and gave her a look (ouch) (my eyes).

They went on their merry way inside a river cave. For a cave, it was pretty well-lit.

And it had landmines.

May looked at that which was once armor plating on her feet (fuck this all. Armor doesn’t grow on fucking trees) (I’m going to commit heresy myself now) and despaired.

The vicar was not happy when he received his book “It’s in fucking French! How am I supposed to read it?!” (my ears)

“C’est la vie,” said May.

“What? You can translate?”

“Of course not,” smugged May “I was just rubbing salt in the wound.”

“Then would you please kindly sod off?”

“With pleasure,” she said (finally done with this shit).

“That was rude,” remarked Parvati when they were both outside.

“It’s not like I have an infinite supply of armor or patience,” said May.

“Hey, we’ve got some bits. Let’s see what money can buy us,”

Their bits bought them a grand total of nothing, with the exception of one shoddy little pistol. There also wasn’t enough money for more inhalants (good) (gimme gimme gimme).

“Still don’t think it’s safe for you to adventure with this,” Parvati gestured to the ruined leg armor.

“Not like I can do anything,” muttered May.

The deserter town was nice. Small and shoddy, but nice. Just like any town in Raider Country, there was work to do. Find a missing girl and some books (nice try, but I’m not gonna comb through every old ruin in the vicinity so you can delude yourself into thinking you were any good with machines).

The missing girl, like the moron she was, had decided to become a raider. The bad thing was that May’s armor was now even worse off than before. The good thing was that she now had drugs (no) (no) (stop).

She inhaled (nonononono) and immediately felt good and heavy, like there was a soft blanket weighing her down, restraining her. Parvati gave her a look, but who cared about that anymore? All that mattered was here and now. The sky and valley were a picture waiting to be painted, waiting for her to paint it. May felt too tired for that, though.

Then a raider jumped at her with a long stick.

May looked at the raider, then at the pole as it swung towards her face. The impact sent her sprawling onto the ground and knocked the air out of her. The bandit hit her over the head again, splitting her helmet in two. Before a third swing of the stick could hit her, Parvati jumped to the rescue. Her mallet hit harder than any glorified stripper’s pole, the sentiment stood.

“Get to safety first, get high later,” summized the engineer, while dragging a very inebriated May to the nearest settlement “Good thing you have such a hard head, eh?”

“Blue traitors spindle crunch bone shunt shatter fickle death one soon far not willing,” summized May “Hours days nights? Why birds why snakes why planes? Firefly. Million little pieces. Light fires first betrayal!”

May came to her senses late in the night, feeling very jittery. She wanted more, more, more. She wondered why, after so long, did she feel the need again. She had been so much more responsible around drugs before the trip, she had recovered to the fullest extent. Now? Now she couldn’t stop herself, like all the rehab she had gone through was for nothing (more?) (what wold Ann say?).

In the morning, she and Parvati stole some books from the cannery for I-wanna-be-an-engineer (want the third one? Search through Raiderland yourself then, see if you find it). And went to talk to the leader. She, of course, wanted them to divert power from Edgewater, to get everyone to join her (why do I have to make this choice? Why can’t you deal with your mess yourselves?) (what about Ann and Nate? Will you betray them?) (why does my life have to suck like this?) (dartboard, May, dartboard).

Then she and her tracker went to the (former) power plant. The robot army was waiting for them. As was a nice electric fence. A nice electric fence where the current stopped for a few seconds every once in a while (hmmm . . .).

“Look what I can do, Parvati!” shouted May and slowed down time.

She would’ve sprinted right through the fence, if she hadn’t forgot to account for one simple fact: when time slowed, so did she.

The fence resumed buzzing with power and promptly electrocuted a certain reckless straggler.

The huge robot army got curious.

“Boss? What are you . . ?” said Parvati, before realizing the gravity of their predicament “Oh shoot!”

May felt herself convulsing, the world fading with each passing moment. She was trapped on a frying pan, in a net and there was no way out (what do I do what do I do what’s going on is this the end what will Nate and Ann do help help what do I do) (gotta save them all).

“Huh? Who’s up?” asked May, feeling like she was spinning one way and the world the other way.

“You electrocuted yourself. “Look what I can do, Parvati!” Pretty sure any other moron could’ve done that, so it’s nothin’ to brag about,” she glared.

“Oh, uh, you was worried of me? I’m, uh, very survivable,” assured her May (worried? For me?)

“You’re so confusing. Eloquent and suave one moment, bumbling and unintelligible the next. Kind and considerate one minute, rude and sadistic right after. Even your face doesn’t make any sense,” frowned Parvati “Who are you, May? Before making judgments, I’d like to hear from you.”

“I is lost. I want friends back,” (everybody’s dartboard) stuttered the younger woman “This all too much. Too much. Life’s always been to much for me.”

Parvati just nodded, leaving May to wonder whether she was satisfied or dissatisfied, understanding or judgmental.

(why can’t I have nice things?)  
(you have so much, May, look around you! Ungrateful bastard)  
(I don’t want what you think I need. I want what I need)  
(you can’t take care of yourself, you’re an imbecile. A victim of others’ poor life choices. A retard)  
(I’ll see Ann and Nate and then, everything will be okay)

(it has to be)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, anyone?


	7. No love, friendship

“Hey, Parvati,” May began, lying in the shade of a tall building “Can you . . . can you leave me alone? I need to be by myself. Like, really need to.”

She said it like asking for solitude was something shameful, something which normal people didn’t do. Her face was scrunched up in what seemed like disgust.

“Sure,” said the mechanic “Be at the bar if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” May sounded relieved, but smirked smugly nonetheless.

There was quite the dissonance between May’s words and body language. Parvati didn’t know what to make of that. The stranger who had come to upset the delicate balance of power in the region also looked strangely similar to the engineer herself. Slightly smaller, with softer features and narrower eyes. A more angular face, shorter and straighter hair and a more slender frame. She and May could be mistaken for sisters by someone who didn’t know her.

Parvati sat at the bar as the only unintoxicated person, sipping on water instead of wine. She wondered if her companion would make the right choice - if there was even a right choice to be made. It wasn’t all May’s fault, she soon came to realize - sooner or later, something else, someone else would’ve taken action to unite the deserters and the Spacer’s Choice family. Someone more malicious, someone who wanted to destroy the lives of people, who found enjoyment in that. Or someone uncaring, someone who just did as they were told, who didn’t put any thought into their actions, not even when the welfare of an entire community (or two) were at stake.

Whatever May decided, it would also be Parvati’s fault, her responsibility. They were a team and what one did would always affect the other, as long as they stuck together. Which meant that Parvati really needed to get to know her partner (in crime, get your minds out of the gutter) better.

-

“So, May,” began Parvati ominously (what did I do wrong, does her lord and master think I’ve transgressed?) as soon as the gunslinger gal had returned from blissful solitude “Take it you like being alone?”

“I kinda, well, needs being alone,” fumbled May “So I can thinks and stuff. Like I charge my around-people batteries.”

“That’s okay, I don’t judge,” assured her the tracker unit “So, what do you like to do. I like tinkering and whacking stuff with my mallet.” (why am I not surprised?)

“I like drawing,” said May “and doodling. And sketching. And painting. And coloring. And-”

“Yes, I get it. You’re an artist type,” nodded Parvati “Never held a touch pad myself, but you do you.”

“Let’s be going,” muttered May.

It all felt way too personal.

They went (back) to the geothermal plant, where the robot army still waited patiently for some fried human flesh (they don’t feel anything don’t worry don’t worry). While Parvati smited them with her hammer (imagine if it was electrified, oh that’d be so cool!), May sniped them with her pistol that misfired about as many times as it hit (ow ow ow) (good thing I’ve got plentiful adreno from all those dead raiders, eh?). Then the bots died (well, “died”. Can something that wasn’t alive in the first place even die?) (are you sure they weren’t alive) (are you sure they felt nothing) (STOP STOP STOP) and the cleanup squad moved inside the building.

Inside there were more robots, an insane scientist and corpses. Dozens of people, mindlessly killed by robots. Humans knew what they did when they killed. Robots, like animals, didn’t. Also, switches. After running through the whole of the building at least twice, May had a feeling that the switches were deliberately placed in extremely counterintuitive patterns, as per the secret protocols of an ancient conspiracy or at the behest of a secret cult. Or maybe it was just her extremely good perception.

May walked the steps up to the main control, feeling like she was acting out some especially important cutscene. She put her fingers onto the keyboard and froze. She shouldn’t be the one to make that choice. She looked to Parvati - but the local just bit her lip nervously, unsure and uncertain. It wasn’t right to put that kind of responsibility onto anyone else.

The deserters lost their power, their way of life, their independence that afternoon.

(when I save Ann and Nate, it’ll all be worth it)  
(it better be)

“What’s done is done,” intoned Parvati as they left “Now we need to convince the deserters to move back.”

“That’s gotta be easy,” joked May “Hey, so we destroyed your community, why don’t you listen to us and go back to your corporate overlords who’ll work you to death and indirectly cause your death by the plague?”

Parvati simply sighed (it’s not your fault or your failure) (it’s all me) (you should be so lucky).

The leader of the deserters wouldn’t return unless the corporate overlord was driven out. May got an idea. Like all ideas which she had, it was ultimately pointless and destructive, but like the times before, May couldn’t stop herself from trying it out.

“What’d you think, ‘Vati?” asked May “We’ll depose of Reed Richardson- sorry, Tobson, install a better leader and stop people from dying of malnutrition.”

“What is malnutrition? The people are dying of the plague,” said Parvati like the simpleton that she was “Also, don’t call me that!”

(what has the future come to?)

After explaining to Parvati  
a) The concept of malnutrition and  
b) The merits of such a nice, short nickname (“what? Nonono, you can’t call me Midget Spinner! That’s too long!”)  
May had her support when they went to confront Mr. Tobson.

“One more thing, boss,” said Parvati “If you don’t mind.”

“Uh?”

“Wear a helmet, please. You don’t look nearly as crazy when it covers your face.”

And that was when May learned, that she was now the definition of uncanny, at least when it came to facial expressions.

Everything she’d spent years and decades learning was for naught. Her face was ruined, ruined forever.

After convincing (more like shouting into submission) the glorious leader of Edgewater, installing Adelaide (wasn’t that some town on Earth 1.0?) as the new leader (rebellion! Power to the people!) and bringing the deserters back into the fold, May bought herself some well-deserved drugs and got inhalin’.

“Are you sure about that?” said Parvati, but otherwise didn’t press the issue.

The bar was loud, far too loud, with all the people and music and lights. May heard the pretty tunes and went to dance, swinging her arms and legs around like she knew what she was doing. Parvati facepalmed for some reason while watching her try out some moves, but May thought little of that. She was happy, the world was a good place and she felt nothing when she recalled the names Anastasiya or Nathanael.

“Hey!” shouted another patron “Watch what you’re doing!”

“In dark searches through vines blinding, but who stupid duck this is?” answered May “Ignoble savage of three lands, who questions divine prayer, construe your halves upon fire and blood, sew kingdoms upon each other in pity and plight!”

The intoxicated man responded with a spit in her general direction. It was probably aimed at her face, but hit her shoe instead. May punched him in the general area of the neck.

Like any honorable man, he immediately proceeded to bring a shotgun to a fistfight.

Then he noticed a particularly large mallet hanging above his head.

Like any honorable woman, Parvati had brought a mallet to a fistfight-rapidly-devolving-into-a-gunfight.

“What?” said the man, dumbfounded.

The mallet swung down, ending the battle with a clear and unanimous victor.

“You have violated the law!” howled a particularly righteous local, as Parvait grabbed May by the collar and dragged her out.

“Finding change in salad saltuna why traitor imbecile,” said May in extreme confusion.

“You’re so reckless, I swear,” muttered Parvati.

“Good helpful nice friend,” babbled May “Likes hammer lady much in very. Companionship map wither traitor? Not traitor? Friend?”

Parvati though for a moment before replying “Not traitor. Friend.”

“I thank her with great perseverant whistle humility,” mumbled May.

Parvati was still there when she came to her senses.

“Thanks for bailing me out there,” she said “A gunslinger gal needs her backup, amirite?”

“No big deal,” shrugged Parvati “I was thinking here . . . thinking of traveling with you. Do you mind? I could be the mechanic on that spaceship of yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would greatly motivate me if someone commented.  
Random Estonian proverb: "Time heals all wounds, time leaves scars."
> 
> Originaal: Aeg parandab haavad, aeg jätab armid.


	8. Love, no friendship

Finally, May retrieved the power regulator and returned to the Unreliable. The ship’s name told a lot about the late captain’s self-confidence. The gunslinger liked to think that she was way more sure of her abilities.

“Welcome back . . . captain,” said ADA “I trust you have brought an intact power regulator? Emphasis on intact.”

“Here it is,” May produced a small, rectangular object from her bag of holding “Wait, no, that’s a crate of inhalants.”

May rummaged through her pockets and bag, but found nothing “Uh . . . I may have misplaced it . . .”

“You misplaced the only thing that could get me up in air again,” said ADA “You retrieved it and then lost it. You owned it. And then you didn’t.”

“Hey, captain,” Parvati approached them “Look what I found in my pack. Think it’s yours.”

She handed May the power regulator. May stared at her like she had set water on fire.

“Good thing you have someone to take care of you, Captain,” said ADA “Do you know how to insert a power regulator?”

“Not really . . . uh, Parvati? You’ll teach me, right?” the woman turned to her buddy.

“Absolutely,” she agreed “Take power regulator to the engine. Insert into right slot. Pray to the Law that the ship doesn’t implode. Pat yourself on the shoulder if all goes smoothly.”

“I’m still not quite sure of what to do. Come with me?” asked May.

“Well, if you insist . . .” said the mechanic.

The ship, as it turned out, didn’t implode. Or explode. May was now the captain of a flight-worthy vessel.

(I HAVE A SPACESHIP A MOTHERFUCKING SPACESHIP I’M A SPACE CAPTAIN THIS IS AWESOME THIS IS THE BEST EEE I HAVE A SPACESHIP EEE)

May realized that maybe she had said all that out loud, because Parvati was rubbing her ears and glaring murderously.

“Sorry, Par,” the woman attempted to soothe her (human shield) partner in crime.

“Stop it with those nicknames,” commanded Parvati “My name is fine as it is.”

“May is actually my nickname,” reminisced the living relic “Until I changed my name as an adult.”

“How strange,” said Parvati “What is your rea- birth name?”

“Chenda Keo,”

“Sounds nice. Why change your name, though?”

“I, um, I . . .”

“‘S fine. You don’t need to talk if you don’t want to.”

“Not that I don’t want. More like can’t.”

“How so?”

“Too hard explaining.”

“I’ll leave you be, then.”

After a brief pause to charge her human interaction batteries, May set off into SPESS. The view was STUPENDOUSLY COOL, but the lack of a touch pad prevented her from immortalizing it. Instead of pining over scenery she couldn’t yet draw, May took out a newspaper, which Parvati in her infinite wisdom deigned to pack. Then she was contacted by her (lord and master) employer.

May set her newspaper down, feeling very giddy (as per usual).

“Seems you’ve already started your fight against the Board,” remarked Phineas “Good job helping out that town. Allies are some of the most precious resources to be found in Halcyon.”

“‘IT CAME FROM OUTER SPACE’ - sure sets me up as quite the menace, no?” May showed him the newspaper “Even though that’s actually pretty true.”

“Well, you can’t spell infamous without famous,” said Phineas “So, moving on to the next step of our plan . . .”

“You sound like an evil genius, commanding an obedient fool from a secret lab, plotting mayhem and chaos and overthrowal of the system,” noted May “Uh, I meant that as a compliment.”

“I do indeed have a secret orbital laboratory,” he said “Moving on to more pressing matters, have you ever heard of the Groundbreaker?”

“People add ‘the’ to everything they want to sound more menacing. No, I haven’t. Do I look like I have spare time?”

Phineas proceeded to dump a bucketload of info onto her. May wrote it, as well as his master plan, onto the back of the newspaper (nice convenient spot of free space).

“One more thing,” he said “How have you been recovering? My formula was . . . very experimental, to put it lightly.”

“I can slow down time!” May began gesticulating wildly “I have a superpower!”

“Really? I’m sure it’ll pass,” he assured her “If not, adopt a catchy moniker and start fighting for freedom and justice.”

“I will,” May continued to gesticulate wildly “Also, I can’t make proper facial expressions anymore.”

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do to help you, I’m afraid.”

“I wonder why, though,”

“Who knows? Either brain damage or the concequence of smiling for 70 years straight.”

“Uh-huh. Bye, I guess?”

“Farewell, May,”

May was disconnected and resumed reading the newspaper. The author really didn’t do her adventures justice (did I do the right thing) (stop).

“Hey, captain?” asked Parvati when they had arrived.

“Uh?”

“So, I heard that the Groundbreaker’s run by this engineer lady, Junlei Tennyson. So, I thought of maybe meeting her? Asking for some tips on the maintenance of spaceships?” wondered Parvati “Maybe you could introduce me?”

“On it, First Mate Parvati!” May even made a little mock salute.

Parvati giggled.

When the two engineers did meet, it sure looked like love at first sight to May. And she wasn’t wrong. Her “friend” had already found better things to do than hang out with some 93-year old loser.

(if only Nate was here. He’d know just what to say to lighten the mood)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets really demotivating, sending out chapters pointlessly into the void of the internet. I would really appreciate a comment.


	9. Love and Friendship

As it turned out, some bureaucrat had grounded her ship (well, the ship whose captain she’d killed and which she’d then proceeded to steal). He turned out to be far more agreeable than she had expected. May wondered what would’ve happened if she’d started impersonating the previous captain - nothing good, most likely.

Then she went to see the creepiest old lady in the star system. Who would only sell May a navkey at an extremely ludicrous price (are they really that rare?). Or, May could go into an “abandoned” research facility to find corporate secrets to sell (like what, a recording of some high executive having inappropriate interactions with a canid?). Being a space pirate (well, kinda) turned out to be harder than she expected.

Before venturing out into the utter hole that was Roseway, May decided to do some work locally. The first thing was killing a wanted arsonist (and retrieving components for Junlei).

“Hey there, little lady,” said one of his goons after she’d taken the elevator right down to the raider hideout “What’cha doing in here? Shouldn’t you be worried for this pretty face of yours, what with that teeny-tiny pistol you keep pointing at me?”

May proceeded to empty her entire magazine into his face.

By the time she had to reload, it looked more like Spacer’s Choice Salad Dressing (one taste to rule them all!).

The rest of the outlaws didn’t take that too well.

“We’re outnumber ten to one!” cried Parvati from behind a crate “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, CAPTAIN?!!”

“I WASN’T!” yelled May over the gunshots.

Then she was hit in the back with a particularly large stripper’s pole.

May turned and proceeded to headbutt the raider who did that to her.

And again.

And again, until he was positively very dead.

“Holy chowder!” cried one marauder “She . . . she headbutted Ricky to death!”

May turned around and laughed. Maniacal giggling relieved stress very well, after all.

“Run!” shouted another bandit “She’s a demon! She’ll kill us all!”

The marauders scattered, all except for their leader who sprayed everything around with fire (nice flamethrower).

Then the Spacer’s Choice pistol jammed because of course it did.

“Some little useless gun you have!” he cackled, rounding in on May “If only you had something a bit more hard-hitting, eh?”

He proceeded to get brained by Parvati and her enormous mallet.

“Have a flamethrower, buddy!” said May “All yours.”

“We should probably visit the medical bay,” she suggested.

May, feeling a bit dizzy, agreed. In the facility, they got both healthier and poorer. There, May also had an opportunity to test out her infiltration abilities. The hologaphic something (thanks, Hawthorne! Uh, sorry for stealing your ship, I guess? How’s the afterlife, by the way?) worked very well. No one suspected a thing as she sold a failed thief into slavery for the Board.

“Yeah, so I helped out your friend,” (heh, “helped”) she informed the doctor (Ellie?) “She should be safe.” (heh, “safe”)

As it turned out, now Ellie had a life debt to her and had to join.

“Well, okay, sure, you can join my crew,” said May “But don’t think you owe anything to me! With that attitude, you’ll find yourself as the sex slave of a raider overlord one day.”

“Don’t be rude, captain,” chastised her Parvati “We need a medic. Welcome to the crew, Ellie Fenhill.”

“Since when?” asked May incredulously.

“I regret this already,” Ellie muttered to Parvati “Nice to meet you, though.”

“Next time, pick someone else to bail out your buddy,” whispered Parvati.

Next task: go to some asteroid and save another space captain.

“This could be you next time around,” said Ellie.

“They named the asteroid Scylla? Will there be a Charybdis too?” said May as they landed.

The asteroid was as bad as its name suggested. Despite being total morons otherwise, the colonists were pretty good with names.

As May flew though the air, propelled by the punch of a huge totally-not-ape, she reflected on the fact that she should’ve probably made a plan. And that her “little useless gun” was effective against people but not so much towards extraterrestrial life.

Fortunately for May, Parvati was surprisingly good with a flamethrower, as was Ellie with a shotgun.

After retrieving the captain, the trio headed back to the Groundbreaker. Parvati sent a few more steamy messages from the only comm terminal on board, Ellie commented on the decline of aetherwave serials over the ages and May got high. ADA watched with quiet amusement, as was usual for her.

The next day, May became the witness to a commotion in the landing bay. Some guy had brained another guy with a tossball stick, but the victim was his superior so he was pretty screwed.

“You should’ve hit harder and then thrown the body into the waste incinerator,” May offered some pointers “Or, better yet, waited until nightfall, sneak into his house and then started swingin’! And prepared a body bag beforehand.”

“Whoa there, I was just looking to teach him a lesson!” protested the man “Not murder him!”

“You could’ve killed him by accident anyway,” said Ellie “What would you have done then, genius?”

“Let’s not start speculating,” said Parvati.

Then May sold some loot to a Spacer’s Choice merchant and watched as Ellie tormented him for shits and giggles.

“You’re lucky you haven’t been to any of their corporate towns,” May told the medic, after checking that Parvati was a safe distance away “And haven’t been forced to rely upon their weapons. But the worst part is, of course, the logo. It looks so utterly atrocious to my artistic sense. Couldn’t they have hired an actual designer to make it?”

“Our slogan is terrible and our logo sucks: the company,” summarized Ellie.

“Almost as bad as “Honest Pete’s inhalants and used needles: A breath of fresh air!” said May.

“What are the needles for?” she wondered.

“The old-school types who won’t use inhalers because they “don’t give the right feeling!” or somesuch nonsense.”

“You sure have a lot of experience with that.”

May said nothing and her new buddy actually got the hint. Their next job was to find parts for Junlei. The parts were in the lower level that the adventurers had failed to clear of raiders.

“Do we have a plan?” asked Ellie.

“Uh . . . our captain’s more of an improviser,” said Parvati.

“Okay, plan A: you fight the marauders upfront, I snipe from the back,” said the doctor “If that doesn’t work out, then we go to plan B: run like all hell to the elevator.”

“Sounds good,” agreed Parvati “You heard, May?”

“Meat!” cried one of the marauders as soon as the elevator touched down.

“Wait!” shouted another “It’s that woman!”

“I’ve brought backup!” shouted May, pulling out her teeny-tiny pistol.

The raiders scattered, screaming.

“That went better than I anticipated,” said Ellie, carrying one of the parts.

“Previously on: Captain May headbutts a marauder to death in full view of his buddies,” informed her Parvati.

“Damn. I knew she was tough, but . . . damn,”

But of course, their work didn’t stop there. Now they had to clear out a path through the critters of nightmares and robots (it’s fine it’s fine they feel nothing). The critters breathed fire. May once again felt inadequate with her little pistol.

After the robots were dealt with (sorry sorry sorry) (don’t apologize, seriously!), the girl team went to their ship for a night of well-deserved rest.

And that’s when they found the guy from before poking at the Unreliable.

“What are you doing near my ship?” demanded May.

Behind her, Parvati took out her flamethrower. Ellie took out her shotgun.

“Woah there, ladies!” he started gesticulating frantically “I can explain! See, I was taking a stroll ‘round the docks this evening . . .”

“Get to the point where you poke at our ship,” Ellie cut him off.

“Well, I wanted to check out your ship and, uh, ask if you needed an extra crewmember,” he said.

“What can you do?” asked May.

“I can, uh, hit people over the head with a stick?” he fumbled with his words “And, uh, push crates? Wait, no, that’s not right . . . I’m a prime bodyguard candidate! I can, um, shield you from damage with my body! And hold the door for you so you can escape!”

Ellie sighed very pointedly. Parvati giggled.

“In that case, welcome aboard, Human Shield,” said May “I’ve long been searching for something mobile to put between me and rabid animals.”

“YESS!” he grinned “Wait, human shield?”

“Isn’t that what you advertised yourself as?” said Ellie, pushing past him.

“Our captain’s just joking,” said Parvati “Right, May?”

“Sure. Dude, what’s your name?” asked the captain.

“Felix. Felix Millstone,” he reached out a hand for her to shake.

“I am NOT touching this!” said May.

“Here goes my introduction . . .”

And so, May found more friends than she had ever needed.


	10. Drunk night out

“What’s up, Midget Spinner?” Nathanael ruffled her hair affectionately “Practicing cartwheels again?”

“I’m not short, you’re just very tall!” protested May “Can you even do a cartwheel yourself?”

“Of course I can, how could you ever think otherwise?” Nate feigned shock.

“Prove it!” demanded May.

Nathanael sighed and set his books upon the ground. He took a very exaggerated pose and attempted to do a cartwheel. He failed miserably and fell onto his face.

“I knew it!” smirked May “It’s ‘cause you’re too tall!”

“I’m not too tall!” Nathanael got up, face red “You’re too short! And jealous!”

May laughed and picked up their books. The sun shone bright in the winter sky, not a cloud in sight.

“I hope that when we graduate, we’ll get to work together,” she said.

“Yeah, like in some cool secret lab,” dreamed Nate “It’s so nice how you have Mrs. Kovalenko to help you.”

“She used to babysit me when I was little,”

“So your cool scientist neighbor has been giving you free advice for decades?” he wagged his finger “Cheater!”

“Would be cool to work with her someday, no?”

“Yeah. We’ll be the ones who’ll invent the next superconductor, you hear me?”

“If you say so,”

“Oh come on! Don’t doubt my clairvoyance!” Nathanael pretended to be offended “I’m the greatest seer there is!”

“I’m sure you are,” laughed May.

-

(traitor. You left me, Nate. Left me all alone)  
(you too Ann. Always me who gets the bad stuff, huh?)

Roseway was awful. And boring. And full of angry raptidons (am I the only one who thinks they look like dogs- er, canids?). She would appreciate the fact that it was a secret lab a bit more without the raiders and morons occupying it, thank you very much. Also, the guards neither confirming nor denying the existence of the facility in which they were stationed was only funny for the first fifteen times or so (Ellie’s insistence on tormenting them not helping matters whatsoever).

May begun to feel very ill at ease without a drawing pad, so the only natural solution was to steal it. She and Ellie found two guards on duty doing . . . things meant to be done off-duty and stole their armor with the IDs still attached. And started playing dress-up (ow my foot ow).

“Due to your misuse and destruction of Auntie Cleo property, we are forced to confiscate your touch-pad,” said totally-a-guard May.

“What?!” the scientist lady squeaked pitifully “I’ve done nothing!”

“My good madam, we have been ordered to seize the following company property: one (1) touch pad. Failure to comply with orders will result in your immediate termination,” said totally-not-an-impostor Ellie “Ma’am.”

“Take it, then!” she held up her hands in defeat.

May seized the company property she had long dreamed of owning. They bid the lady goodbye, then dumped the armor behind a random house. May kept the ID, though.

“That was a pretty convoluted plan for a drawing pad,” said Ellie “But it’s always fun to scam people.”

“I didn’t plan,” May said, fixing her hair (still no hairpins. Bastards) “I saw the secret armor storage compartment and started improvising.”

-

Meanwhile . . .

“So, Hakim,” said one naked technically-on-duty guard “We still haven’t tried the electric toothbrush. Come by on Wednesday, no?”

“Sure will, Andre,” said the other one “I always have time for you, you know.”

“You’re such a charmer,” he smiled, feeling around for where he had stashed their armor “Hold on . . . where’d our stuff go?”

“Uh oh . . . we’re screwed.”

-

May returned from Roseway with a heap of nice, juicy corporate secrets (finally!) and a load of inhalants she’d found in the room of a scientist. She wondered if he was already missing them.

“I hope you aren’t planning to take them all at once,” Ellie gestured to heap of drugs “Otherwise, this ship will be needing a new captain.”

“Thanks, I got it,” said May and loaded her inhaler.

“You sure you should be doing that?” asked Felix “Won’t you like, become addicted?”

“That’s really none of your concern, Human Shield,” Ellie looked at him coldly.

“Just suggestin’ a different course of action, that’s all!” he protested and skulked away.

May proceeded to get stoned in her room. As she found out later, she had apparently been very creative while high. Not that the “art” she produced in such a state was any good, but kudos for the effort.

“Hey, captain,” Parvati approached her after ensuring that she was most definitely sober “Would you happen to have any relationship advice?”

“I’m the last person in this star system to turn towards in such matters,” said May “I don’t feel attraction, romantic or sexual. Period.” 

“Um . . . so I have this problem and I don’t know who else to turn to,” she straightened her shirt “Between me and Jun.”

“I’ll listen to you, no problem,” assured her the addict “No guarantees that I’ll give you good advice, though.”

“So, we’ve been sending each other messages. And in the latest one she’s mentioned some Isabel. I mean we aren’t dating or anything . . . yet, but I kinda like Jun so I don’t know what to do,” Parvati dumped all her problems onto May.

“Ask her,” May looked at her incredulously.

“I’m, um, a little shy,” admitted Parvati “I . . . I feel so unsure of what to say.”

“Can’t suggest anything,” shrugged May.

“Booze helps with the anxiety,” helpfully suggested Ellie “There’s a good bar ‘round here, the Lost Hope, we could get you drunk. Then you’ll have all the courage in the world.”

(the lost hope. Like the ship. Like me)  
(once upon a time, I wanted to become a scientist. Now . . . now I want to not get killed by raiders)

“Want to join us, Felix?” May asked, rocking on her heels “We’ll pay for your booze!”

Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Aw, thanks!” he grabbed his jacket in a hurry.

The bar was pretty crowded, to put it lightly. Not a single free table was in sight. May spotted one where sat a lonely drunk, sobbing into his glass. She grabbed his and dragged the guy away. He was too intoxicated to do anything.

“So, I’ve never gone drinking before,” said Parvati “What should I try?”

“Maybe beer?” Felix appeared with a bottle out of nowhere.

“Who’d you steal that from?” Ellie looked around warily.

“Hey! I’m an honest man, don’t doubt me!” he protested.

“Zero Gee Brew?” May read the label “This isn’t even beer, this is piss!”

“Wine, then?” offered Ellie.

“Sure, I guess,” said Parvati.

Ellie brought them one bottle. May drew her hand towards it, but Ellie slapped it away.

“And then you’ll get high later and die of the drug interaction,” she reprimanded her “Pick one and stick to it.”

“What’s with your foot?” asked the slightly inebriated Felix.

“Shut up,” muttered May, glaring murderously.

“So,” said Parvati after a few sips “What do I do? I don’t know if Junlei likes me in that way because I do. What if we just aren’t good together? What if she thinks I’m cold? What if she loves Isabel instead?”

“Slow down,” May flapped her hands “That’s too much for me to think! You should stop and just ask Junlei. Then if she doesn’t like you, then start worrying.”

Parvati took a few more sips, looking sad.

“Don’t worry,” May patted her on the arm “Ask Junlei honestly. Then you’ll know for sure. I mean, you’ll be fine even without her.”

Parvati continued to drink her wine.

“Um, I think you should stop,” said May “And drink lots of water so you won’t have that bad of a hangover.”

“I’ll go write to Jun,” she stood up “Thanks, captain.”

May looked on as she left, then turned to her other buddies. Ellie sat in a corner, gazing smugly at all others in the vicinity. Felix stood by the bar, attempting to socialize.

“Hey,” he greeted a woman who sat, staring at her cup “You got issues, I got swag. Why don’t we go make it even?”

The woman pulled out a rifle.

“Oh, yeah? Like to play with fire?” Felix was too inebriated to realize how screwed he was.

May grabbed him by the hand and dragged him out, the first shot missing them by a hair’s width.

A mardet passed them by “Something wrong?”

“There . . . there’s a-” May felt breathless and confused.

“Oh, it’s you,” the mardet looked at Felix and passed them by.

“Wait!” cried May “We’re being attacked!”

The guard turned around. The very drunk and very pissed-off woman exited the bar.

“Stop or face justice!” the guard hollered melodramatically.

“I’m in trouble?” Felix realized a little too late.

She noticed Felix and took aim.

(WHAT DO I DO WHAT DO I DO)

May pushed him down, away from the madwoman. She felt a bullet lodge itself into her shoulder blade, felt her flesh ripped and torn. People surrounded the scene, screaming and running around, but all she felt was blinding, paralyzing pain and all she saw was darkness.


	11. Accidents happen

There were people all around her, screaming, running, staring. The world was fading before her eyes like a dream. May felt for her inhaler, but it wasn’t there (what’s going on what’s going on). Her right arm refused to move, the pain in her shoulder fading and flaring anew. Felix stared into space, blinking slowly.

(can’t feel my hand. What do I do what do I do?)

As the colors faded, so did the noise. May felt content with laying face-down on top of her buddy, she wanted to sleep, to do nothing and succumb to the darkness. Soon, she would be reunited with her family.

“Oh hell no. Not on my watch,” May was lifted into a sitting position and given some adreno through the inhaler.

The world became distractingly bright again, the pain flaring up again. May groaned and attempted to swat her “benefactor” away with her good arm. She was promptly placed on a stretcher and carried away (guess those bystanders actually did something).

The next day, a rather sore and rather pissed May awoke in the medical bay, with an arm completely swaddled in bandages. After deciding, that there was nothing for her to see, May took a nap. When she awoke again, she was greeted by a somewhat familiar sight.

“Hey there,” said Parvati “So I heard that while I was conversing with Jun, you were escaping from a madwoman with a rifle.”

“Yes very much,” May glared murderously for no particular reason.

“I’ll tell Felix you’re fine,” she stood up “He’s been worried, you know.”

“Uh? At the moment not really,” she turned onto her side.

May sat in her bed and looked over her arm. Every time she moved it, her shoulder flared up in pain (will it ever heal?) (how much did it cost to get me patched up?). She was starting to think that using herself as a human shield wasn’t as rewarding as expected.

“Nice to see you kickin’!” Felix entered and sat down next to her “You know, that was really cool! Taking the bullet for me, I mean. But painful.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how epic is that?” May answered automatically.

“There’s a scale for that?”

“One is when you slip in a puddle of vomit and fall down a secret trapdoor into a torture room. Ten is when you acquire god-like power and battle demons inside of a spinning star while wearing nothing but a skin-tight bodysuit,” explained May “My best friend Nathanael came up with this.”

“Um, a six, maybe? Still, thanks, boss. Here I thought I was the human shield. How’s your shoulder?”

“I don’t know!” she pulled on her hair because thinking about that was too much and she’d explode if she didn’t do something “I don’t know! What if it never heals?!”

“Sorry about that, boss. Guess I really screwed up while drunk.”

“‘S fine. No matter how disastrous your attempt to flirt may have been - I’m not very good at that stuff - pulling out a gun is not an appropriate reaction.”

“You’re telling me this after you got shot defending me?” he put a hand on her shoulder (the other one).

“Don’t talk about that!” May slapped his hand away “How am I gonna shoot with a gun? How am I gonna use a fork? How am I gonna DRAW, dammit?!!”

(what do I do what do I do what do I do WHAT DO I DO)

May tugged her loose hair. She didn’t want to blow over with all her feelings, but when had being normal ever been a choice.

“You’ll be fine,” Felix patted her on the back “You’ll be fine. Just . . . don’t think so hard about it.”

“What face am I making?” she demanded.

“Uh, you look . . . disgusted?” he scrutinized her and she averted her gaze “Scared, maybe?”

“Exactly,” she sighed “My expression does not reflect what I feel.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t start thinking about every depressing thing that has happened in your life,” Felix offered some actually pretty sound advice.

“I want to go back to my ship.” said May (since when is this your ship?) (shut up, Ghost of Previous Captain).

“I don’t think the doctors allow that . . .” Felix stood up “Parvati’s already left. Must be having fun with her girlfriend.”

“Parvati’s crush runs the place,” May informed him “We’re kind of on a first-name basis with Junlei Tennyson.”

“What?” he turned abruptly “Your First Mate is dating one of the most powerful people in the world?! How did you manage to gather such a crew?”

“I kinda introduced them to each other,” she swung her legs back and forth.

“I feel so much more insignificant now,” he rubbed the back of his head.

“Parvati lived her entire life in the hoveltown of Edgewater before meeting me. She was just an engineer at the local cannery.” said May “I wonder what you’ll become after traveling with us.”

“Guess you have the power to increase the epic score for people,” he concluded.

“I have an area-of-effect aura of awesome,” she explained.

“Cool! I think the visit time’s over, though,” he said.

The next day, May finally got back to the Unreliable (probably because I incessantly badgered the poor unfortunate medical professionals . . . but hey, it worked!). Of course, her crew was there to greet her.

“Please take better care of your captain next time,” said ADA “It would be very unfortunate if this ship had to be assigned a third captain this year.”

“What happened to the first one?” asked Felix.

“Let’s not talk about that,” said May and proceeded to rock on her heels.

“This seems a little suspicious . . .” he gave May a look “Just saying! It’s not like I suspect you of anything, nothing like that!”

“If this was a murder mystery, you’d be the guy who the killer offs simply for being nosy,” Ellie told him “And if this was a murder mystery, then you’d do good to drop the issue.”

“I’m starting to feel like a background extra in a horror flick,” Felix glanced around warily.

“Don’t worry, May is exceptionally harmless,” assured him Parvati.

“If you conveniently forget about the 200 or so raiders I’ve already killed,” said May.

“They’re called marauders,” Ellie helpfully reminded her.

“This conversation is too suspicious for me to continue,” May exited in the smoothest manner possible.

She proceeded to glare murderously at the touch pad which she now couldn’t use for about half an hour, then found that her good arm was still good enough for playing with toys.

“Hey, captain, I- since when do you have a stuffed teddy bear the size of your head?” Ellie barged in suddenly.

“Careful there! Theodore has been a member of this crew longer than you have!” May felt a sudden influx of gratitude for her tan skin which never blushed.

“. . . I’ll get going,” Ellie disappeared as quickly as she had entered.

May got back to enacting a space battle with a huge stuffed animal.

After a while, she got hungry and wandered into the kitchen. There, May found her friends cooking. Well, trying to.

“What is this object?” Ellie poked the amorphous mass on her plate with a spoon.

“Fruit salad?” said Felix.

“Do any of you actually know how to cook?” asked Parvati “Oh, hey there captain! We have noodles and fruit salad.”

May looked at the noodles. Then at the salad. Then at the noodles again. Then at the salad again.

“And you think it’s edible?” she scowled “Edible?! I WOULD RATHER INGEST SODIUM HYDROXIDE AND SOAK MYSELF IN A BATHTUB OF SULPHURIC ACID THAN TOUCH THIS FOOD WITH A STICK SEVERAL UNITS OF MEASUREMENT LONGER THAN MYSELF!”

May, realizing how much more embarrassing she’d made her life, escaped.

“What did she say?” Felix raised an eyebrow.

“Oh you simpleton,” Ellie shook her head “Translation: I would rather die twice over than touch your food with a ten foot pole.”

When May made it back to her room, she did the only reasonable and logical thing she could: got high. The pesky voice of reason having already been crushed, there was no one to oppose her. She wondered if her shoulder would ever heal, if she would be able to feel with her arm again, if her hand would move again.

But, ultimately, when she had her inhalants, nothing mattered.


	12. Prepping for a trip

May woke up in a bed. She remembered getting high in a chair. Therefore, she concluded that someone had carried her into bed. She sent a psychic thanks to whoever had done that and went to prowl for food. Her friends were already having breakfast, aka the remains of their “fruit salad”.

“Has anything edible appeared since yesterday?” May asked Parvati.

“Let’s see . . . I’m afraid not,” she rummaged through the drawers.

May sighed “We should go buy something.”

“Like we have the finances for that,” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“What do we do, then?” wondered May.

“I heard SubLight Salvage has jobs available,” she said “They pay well.”

“Interesting,” May nodded.

“You’d want to work with a company on the Board?” Felix looked up.

“What’s wrong with that?” asked May.

“The Halcyon Holdings Board is corrupt and evil,” he gesticulated wildly “They’re running the colony to the ground!”

Ellie snorted with laughter.

“We need the money,” May decided “Your concerns have been noted, though.”

“You’ll need to wear something with long sleeves,” said Ellie.

“And a helmet,” added Parvati.

Their meeting with a mafioso lady- er, Liliya Hagen went well. She also happened to know the previous captain (Alex, are you haunting me?). Once again, the fact that she could technically pose as Hawthorne was shown as unwise. May was given a job in Monarch and since there was money incoming, she now had the excuse to start shopping.

“We still don’t have much money,” said Ellie.

“I have an idea,” Felix smiled.

-

“Finally!” Helena, dragging a large duffle bag “Our plan worked!”

“We should think about buying a domicle,” said Shaun, carrying another sack.

Before them, an armored woman grabbed throat and started coughing. She gasped and choked, then fell to the ground, still. On her back was quite a large rucksack.

“Wonder if there’s anything interesting in that backpack,” said Shaun.

Helena kicked the corpse. Shaun dragged the sack off of the unfortunate sod’s back. Then the corpse moved.

“Brainsss,” groaned the woman “Flessshh.”

She stretched out one arm towards Helena, the other one hanging limp like a stick. The robber screamed, dropping her duffle bag. Shaun aimed his pistol at the woman, but the bullet did nothing to stop her. In fact, she dodged it and knocked the gun out of Shaun’s hands.

“Brainnss,” the lady moaned, swiftly getting up, right arm hanging uselessly by her side.

“Oh Law, it’s a zombie!” cried Shaun “An actual zombie! Like in the serials!!!”

“Run!” Helena grabbed him by the arm “We can still escape it?”

“What if it’s infectious?” he was too afraid to look back at the shambling corpse “Is this karmic punishment for our crime?”

“Shut up!” Helen growled “We’ll get the money later.

When they did come back, tiptoeing and running away from every sprat, their hard-earned wealth was long gone.

-

“I can’t believe your ridiculous idea actually worked,” Ellie shook her head.

“I have a way of subverting expectations,” smirked Felix, a sack slung over his shoulder.

“We’re rich now, dammit!” May carried the duffle bag with one arm.

May bought a hair tie to replace her lost orange hairpin and some noodles (along with other objects commonly known as food) which were as edible in the future as they had been in the past. Then she went to the kitchen and began cooking. Well, tried to.

“What is this thing?” May glared murderously at the object with which she was supposed to cut the “sausage” (wurst is the worst. Go to hell, whoever drew the ad for that).

“This is a Spacer’s Choice kitchen multitool: it may be far from the best choice, but it’s the only choice!” informed ADA.

“. . . that was a rhetorical question.” (now I know why it breaks so fast, at least)

“In future instances of rhetorical questions, please preface them with: this is a rhetorical question,”

“How do I cook food with this?” May decided to ask something less esoteric for a change.

“Step one: try the multitool in every conceivable way. Step two: try again. Step three: poke it with a screwdriver or wrench. Step four: consult First Mate Parvati. If all else fails, read the instruction manual.”

“Where exactly is the instruction manual?”

“According to my data, Alex threw it away shortly after buying the multitool.”

“Dammit.”

“I quite agree.”

Eventually, after some unorthodox tinkering by Parvati, the kitchen multitool was fixed and everyone rejoiced when they were served good noodles instead of “fruit salad” (WHAT IS THAT UNGODLY HORROR) and cooked shoelaces.

“If we are heading to Monarch, perhaps you should commune with Mr. Welles,” ADA helpfully reminded May.

“Uh, sure, can you reach him?” she sat down in her nice captain’s chair and gave it a good spin (IF IT SPINS, I SITS) (weeeeee!).

“Commencing audio-visual exchange . . .” (why do robots speak in such needlessly convoluted ways?)

After waiting for some time (my sense of time works like clockwork! Except when it doesn’t), May got in contact with her boss.

“For some reason, I have the nagging suspicion that you are in possession of a navkey.” said Phineas “An that you’re planning on visiting Monarch.”

“Seems like my old pal Nate isn’t the only one with clairvoyance these days,” May swung her legs up and down “He was ahead of his time, I’d say.”

“More like, forcibly brought ahead of his time,”

“So, what do I do when I get there?”

Another cunning plan was dumped upon her. May could only listen and lament the state of her shoulder which prevented her from taking notes.

“What happened to your shoulder, if I may ask?” Phineas finally noticed the (glaringly obvious) bandage.

“My friend tried to flirt with the wrong woman. I ended up taking a bullet for him.”

“Ah. Well, they do say that love hurts. Still, I would advise you to postpone that trip. I’ve never been to Monarch myself, but I heard that what it lacks in population, it more than makes up with in deadly creatures.”

“I have a crew. They can do all the fighting. Oh, um, I suppose I should thank you for defrosting me. Uh, and how did you manage to engineer my cryopod into a drop-pod? Pretty sure that “reviving people from cryostasis” and “refitting a random object so it won’t burn out in the atmosphere” aren’t close fields of research.”

“Neither are “being a lab assistant” and “gunning down copious amounts of marauders”. I’m a man of many talents, I can assure you.”

“You’ll teach me how to reverse sus-an, right? I mean, I am a scientist too . . . well, kind of.”

“Absolutely! I’ve never had an assistant before.”

“You do have a cool secret lab, don’t you?”

“I do. Come visit me in the ring of Terra 2.”

“I’ve never worked in a secret lab before! Oh, this is awesome! My friend Nate invented a scale to measure the epicness of any given event, but given the sheer ludicrousness of my adventures, I need to revamp it.”

“That Nate sounds like quite the fun guy. If all goes according to plan, I’d be interested in meeting him.”

“”If all goes according to plan”? You really are a mad scientist plotting the overthrowal of the government from a secret orbital lab, aren’t you? Not that I’m complaining! Uh, Nate’s full name is Nathanael Bloke. Well, okay it says Blake in the documents, but that’s just a typo!”

“Have fun on Monarch, assistant,”

“I will.”

(I fucking will, broken shoulder be damned!)


	13. Royally screwed up

“Hey, just a quick question, ADA,” Felix approached her “Do you happen to have surveillance cameras in the bathroom?”

“Due to the fact that our captain responds with great distress to the notion of being surveilled in any way, no,” she answered right away.

“But if she was less averse to the notion?” he pressed further.

“Then there would be cameras in the bathroom, as there are everywhere else,”

“In that case, did you happen to be monitoring the bathroom yesterday, at about 7 pm?”

“I am always watching,”

“. . . no scale can describe my embarrassment right now,”

“According to my data, embarrassment is a feeling too subjective to be accurately measured with a scale.”

“. . . I’ll get going . . .”

“To engage in other activities that those you did yesterday at 7 pm, I hope?”

Felix said nothing as he hurried away.

-

There was a blockade in the skies above the planet. Well, “skies”. Well, “blockade”. Well, “planet”. To be entirely accurate, there were four UDL gunships slightly smaller than the Unreliable orbiting the moon of Monarch in space. Avoiding them would’ve been hard if May actually had to navigate herself, but fortunately ADA did that for her.

“I don’t like seeing your arm out of a sling, but it’s better to not advertise yourself as helpless to every criminal in the vicinity,” said Ellie.

(it just keeps getting worse, doesn’t it?)

The town where they landed (what’s-it’s-name or something like that) had a saltuna cannery. And it was owned by Monarch Stellar Industries, who didn’t have a monarch butterfly on their logo. The place was fairly meh, but she did pick up a few quests. A pathfinder offered her services to them, but Ellie not-so-subtly implied that they didn’t need more addicts. May not-so-subtly insinuated that Ellie had no fashion sense, but she took that as a compliment.

“I heard the mantisaurs spit acid!” said Felix with due excitement.

“The raptidons spit acid,” noted Parvati.

“Mantisaurs breathe fire,” corrected Ellie.

“Like DRAGONS!” said May.

Ellie raised an eyebrow (wish I could do that).

The wilderness was filled with the following obstacles:  
1\. Raptidons  
2\. Mantisaurs  
3\. (Swimming) pools of what looked like acid (nope, not gonna try it out)  
4\. Raiders  
5\. More raiders  
6\. Even more raiders (owowowowow)  
7\. Steep cliffs to fall off of (aaaaaaaaaaaaaa) (CALM DOWN I SWEAR)  
8\. Yet more raiders  
The obstacles proved to be easier to deal with than usual, mainly due to the fact that May’s pistol didn’t misfire into her side nearly as much. She also found that she could wield her saber with her left hand. And that she could slow time very reliably.

“Explosions!!!” yelled May as she watched a mantiqueen explode in slow motion (neat use of your superpower, eh?).

“Oh, I can do better,” Felix winked “Watch.”

Another grenade sailed over a group of mantipillars, turning them into a facsimile of tomato paste.

“Boom!” May hopped up and down “Bang!”

“Wonder how many of their organs have been left intact,” said Felix.

“I’d go and count, but I only have one set of armor,” May shook her head “. . . and I still don’t know how to repair it.”

Parvati coughed.

“I can’t learn to fix anything with my arm like this,” said May (I can’t do anything with an arm like this).

“You can. I’ll show you back on the ship,” Parvati protested.

(that’s not gonna help me)

After a while (a loooooooooooong while) (no, not in that way!) (lacking carnal instincts and having a dirty mind aren’t mutually exclusive, as it seems~) they visited the other town on the moon (oh, sorry, PLANET), Ambersomething. As expected, there were things to do. The place was also full of rebel demagogues. Felix was smitten. May was a bit more cautious, given her more extensive knowledge of cults (more “extensive”, yeah sure). She had also taken her drugs with her, in a rare instance of actual planning.

“I mean, I’m not some crazy anti-capitalist, but given the state of the star system, I’m really starting to sympathize with these Iconoclasts,” May confessed to Parvati.

Nearby, Ellie snorted with laughter.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” said May “Should I go check if they’ve brainwashed Felix into doing anything stupid yet?”

“I’ll go check myself,” Ellie stood up “You’re a bit too susceptible to indoctrination for my liking.”

As was the problem with many, many organizations in this dystopian future, the Iconoclast’s logo sucked hard.

“Who designed this shit?!” May complained to Parvati, rummaging through her pockets to find the drugs.

A local glanced murderously their way.

“Oh? Think you scare me?” May glared murderously in turn, charging her inhaler.

“Don’t do that, captain.” cautioned Parvati

“What’s wrong with the logo?” he hissed.

“It’s awful, that’s what it is!” declared the hobby artist “Your lack of designers will impair the spreading of your message, I tell you! But of course, you wouldn’t know that - any artistic sense eludes you!”

“You know what, smartass? Go fuck yourself, you dumb bitch!” the local told her to leave in no uncertain terms.

May stood up “I take that as a challenge!”

“You’re not thinking this through-” began Parvati.

“Let’s fight, whore!” he sneered “Leave that flimsy sword of yours behind. It’ll be a real fistfight.”

“Let’s do it!” yelled May.

(wait a second . . . oh shit) (oh no no no)

It was too late to go back, though. May lunged at the man with her left arm, swinging it right at his smug face. He sidestepped with ease and hit her over the head with his fist. May gasped and her vision blurred briefly - just long enough for the guy to slam his fist into her face. She felt herself falling backwards and slowed down time so as to not drop to the ground like a rock. He tried to hit her again, but she slapped his arm away.

Then May found herself restrained, helpless to do anything but wait as her captor decided what to do with her (nonononononono go away go away go away go away)

“Stop this!” Parvati intervened, drawing attention to the huge flamer on her back “She’s not thinking straight. You know, a bit inebriated.”

“A bit inebriated?” May struggled against her friend’s stainless steel grip “I’m not even high!”

“That’s not helping your case at all,” said Parvati and dragged her away.

The local looked mildly irritated that he didn’t have the brawl he expected.

“You can’t fight in the state you’re in,” she let May go.

“......!!!.....” May ground her teeth together, still together “.....!!!.....”

“Don’t do that,” Parvati flinched at the sound.

May ground her teeth together harder, reaching for her inhaler.

“I don’t think you should do that,” Parvati eyed the device “At least wait until you’re less pissed.”

May sighed and left to find the others.

“I mean, this place may be full of cultist, but they have some neat dissection techniques,” said Ellie (contendedly for once).

“Aw yeah! This is so cool!” Felix gushed “Too bad there aren’t any pamphlets I can take with me as a memo.”

“Let’s ask the bosses about that,” suggested May.

“Count me out,” Ellie chose to remain where she was.

“I want a pamphlet too,” said May as they walked “Their icon is utter garbage, though.”

“I like it . . .” said Felix “Is there an emblem you don’t consider awful?”

“The Groundbreaker has this cool flying ship on their logo,” May smiled “Like the other colony ship . . . the Hope. Whoever designed those is firstly, already dead, and secondly, did a good job.”

“That other ship - you sound like you have some connection to it, like a history,” he speculated “But it disappeared sixty years ago, so that can’t be.”

“I was on the Hope,” May stopped “I told my friends about this wondrous new opportunity. I told them we go together. They listen. The ship goes missing. I is found.”

She had to stop, because there were too many words and they were all too heavy. The things left unsaid choked her like a noose (why did you leave me Ann) (why did you leave me Nate) (why did I bring you into this) (why did I think this was a good idea).  
If she was with Anastasiya and Nathanael right now, this would be fine. But she wasn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Felix placed a hand on her shoulder, then began gushing loudly “You know how things were on Earth, then? That’s so cool! You’re like a living relic! How old are you?”

I don’t understand how this can be, was what he meant, but I believe you. I’ll wait for you to explain before jumping to conclusions, was what he meant.

“I explain more after,” May took a deep breath “Can’t now.”

“Oh, that’s okay. Um, you must be overwhelmed,” he kept his hand on her shoulder “We’ll ask about the pamphlets later. Maybe we could see if there’s some kind of inn here?”

May nodded and he led her through the maze of somewhat dingy domicicles. Felix reminded her of Nathanael, but he was pretty awesome on his own.

“Hey,” May tried to get her friend’s attention “You’re promoted from Human Shield to Crewmember. You’re too valuable to waste.”

Felix’s smile was a reward of it’s own.

(I have backup)  
(I have trust)  
(I have friendship)  
(I can do this)  
(wait a little for me, Ann, Nate? I won’t be long, I promise)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random fact: the Russian and Ukrainian name is spelled Anastasiya, not Anastasia. Just a thing I feel worth mentioning, since I have a character with this name here. Also, the last name Kovalenko is distinctly Ukrainian, so you can guess A. Kovalenko's ethnicity from here ;)


	14. Family matters

“So, this is Nathanael Blake,” May pointed at him.

“Your boyfriend?” asked Anastasiya.

Nathanael blushed profusely, but said nothing.

“No!” protested May “We’re friends! Best friends! No way I’d ever date him!”

Nate looked at her for a moment, surprised. Still, he said nothing, therefore all was well.

“I’m Anastasiya Kovalenko,” she held out her hand to be mauled by the man “Nice to meet you.”

“Hey there,” he nodded “So, you’re like this cool scientist who’s been babysitting May since she was little.”

“Correction: I didn’t babysit her. She just sometimes came to chat with me and most days, I obliged,” said Ann.

May didn’t know why, but hearing the woman talk so indifferently about the time they had spent together made her feel unwanted and abandoned. She had thought they had some kind of special connection, that Ann saw her not just as her neighbor, but as a student, as a-

May cut herself off before she could reach a certain conclusion. She wasn’t going to open her heart to be betrayed again.

Hadn’t she already, though?

-

“Hey, Felix,” Parvati attempted to strike up a conversation “I’ve been wondering if you have a family somewhere.”

“No. Lived all alone for as far as I can remember,” he shook his head.

“Oh, that’s terrible. I’m sorry,” she fretted “Um, I probably shouldn’t have asked . . .”

“No, it’s fine,” Felix assured her “I mean, having relations would’ve just tied me down.”

“And that’s the thing with all relationship: they’re tied that bind,” May felt the need to intervene “Most of humanity need to socialize, need friends and allies, not just acquaintances. And opening yourself to a connection opens you to betrayal, but there’s nothing that can be done about that, really. I mean, yeah, my friends - my family - tied me down, but now that they’re . . . they’re . . .”

Once again, there was too much on her mind to express with words.

“Why’s it so that every conversation with you finds a way to become depressing?” wondered Felix “I mean, no offense, you’re fun to be around, but that’s just sad.”

“That was far more philosophy than I expected from you in a lifetime,” said Ellie.

“Must be so awful when you get overwhelmed and can’t speak,” Parvati sympathised with her.

“Gets used to it,” muttered May, feeling warm and fuzzy at the attention of her friends, but also awkward “No big deal.”

In Amberwhatever, they were tasked to find parts for the printing press. May checked her dwindling drug supply and found she had none at all (I need to stop why can’t I stop not again please no no no stop).

The next stop was a suspicious little town with extremely questionable “food” (even by the standards of the future) being sold.

“Ew,” said Ellie “No way I’m eating this.”

May gagged in agreement.

“I’ll try,” Parvati eyed her plate with uncertainty “I’m sure it won’t hurt . . . right, doc?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead,” dismissed her Ellie.

“What’re you complainin’ about?” said Felix, with bits of “food” hanging out of his mouth “It’s real good, trust me!”

His stomach, however, disagreed.

“I don’t feel so good . . .” he mumbled and started turning a very interesting shade of gray.

Then he rushed off to puke in the bathroom.

“Yikes,” Parvati pushed her plate away “Think I won’t be tryin’ this, after all.”

“I hope he’s okay,” fretted May “Should I go check?”

“He’ll be fine,” Ellie assured her somewhat indifferently.

And Felix did return, still looking paler than usual.

“You didn’t eat, ladies?” he asked, sounding a little envious.

“You’re the only man on board, therefore the comic relief who gets hurt, while we girls get to look pretty in every situation,” explained Ellie “You know, like in the serials you love so much.”

Felix laughed nervously.

“Hey, look,” a woman nearby whispered to her companion “That girl’s got a foot tumor!”

(HOW DARE YOU)

“Really?” her friend turned around “Oh . . . poor sod.”

(DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE)

May pounced at him, but was unfortunately (or fortunately) held back by Parvati. She struggled in her buddy’s grip, despite knowing it was futile. Parvati only let her go after the couple had left in haste.

“What’s gotten to you?” the mechanic wondered “You’re becoming more violent by the day.”

May thought back to all the raiders she’d killed and the “supplies” she’d looted from them.

“Side effects of the drugs,” Ellie stated “That’s how people become marauders, if you didn’t know already.”

“Why isn’t she violent towards us, then?” asked Parvati.

“Marauders too aren’t usually hostile towards those they consider part of their group,” she explained “That’s why marauder gangs don’t usually murder each other.”

(.........................................................)

(..........................no............................)

(oh shit of fuck I really screwed up)

The drugs of the future, as it turned out, were just as bad in quality as the rest of the stuff (looking at you, Spacer’s Choice pistol. You’ve hit me more times than my enemies). That didn’t stop May from wasting her extremely limited finances to buy more.

The four unlucky adventurers left Fallbrook the next day and were almost murdered by mantisaurs several times over before they got to finish their errands.

“Almost feels like I’m some kind of servant, washing the dirty laundry of my masters that they can’t be bothered to deal with,” lamented Ellie “Oh well. At least we get paid.”

“.......I hate oversized mantises,” mumbled May.

“Who doesn’t?” said Felix.

“Feels a little unsafe to, you know, leave our ship unguarded in Stellar Bay,” fretted Parvati.

“.........should’ve though of it sooner..…” said May.

“Yeah . . . in hindsight, we’ll probably find it stolen or missing or worse,” Ellie frowned “And we’ll deserve it for being morons.”

“How did none of us think of that before?” muttered Felix not very cheerily.

“That abandoned place with the landing pad . . . we can call ADA from there, no?” wondered May.

“You’re right. Let’s get there ASAP,” decided Ellie “Top priority, from now on.”

(top priority should be finding the information broker)  
(how can you save your family if you don’t have a ship, you moron?)  
(family??)

(I’ve never thought of Nate and Ann much like that . . . but it all makes sense)  
(after everything they’ve done for me, they’re family, whether they like it or not)

May felt the familiar weight of the inhaler on her hip - soon the persistent cloud in her mind would be eased. She couldn’t stop anymore and there was nothing she could do - just wait for her inevitable demise and hope she had enough time to save her family. If they could be saved, that was. There was no way for her to know if Phineas Welles was lying or not before it was too late. But even if she was just an unwitting pawn of a space terrorist, she had to do her best, because there was nothing else she could do.

(everyone betrays you eventually, May, whether they want to or not)

(and yet, after all this time, it still hurts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: okay so I have math homework, a 30-page essay to complete by Friday and a fanfic to write. Focus, Võilill!
> 
> My brain: SIDUR PIDUR GAAS GAAS SIDUR PIDUR GAAS
> 
> ...yeah. I only heard that song like once on the radio.


	15. Time-delayed failure

May felt something on her neck and chest, something heavy, something suffocating. She opened her eyes and gasped for air, but her windpipe was closed, held shut by two pale hands.

“I don’t want you,” said Betty, sitting on top of her “Mommy and daddy shouldn’t have taken you home.”

May gasped for air, her arms pinned under the weight of the four-year-old Betty. May’s vision became spotty, blurring and blackening. The pressure on her neck felt like a concrete slab, pushing into her frail, unprotected flesh. May opened her mouth as wide as she could, but it didn’t help. Her chest wouldn’t rise.

“Betty! Where are you?” called the girl’s mother “Come here this instant!”

Betty reluctantly let go of her victim, skipping out of the door.

May gasped, heaving for air. Her sight cleared and she gently poked the bruises on her neck with a finger.

“What is this mess?!” Betty’s mother reprimanded her “What was this, tell me?”

“Nothing,” said Betty.

“You’re cleaning all this up,” said the woman.

“Uh-huh,” there was a loud clang from the outside - she had taken out a broom.

“Chenda?” called the father “Wake up!”

“You know she doesn’t like to be called that,” noted the mother, but May was far too tired to care.

Brian entered her room, his eyes drawn to the fresh marks on her neck.

“What happened?” he sat on her bed.

May opened her mouth, but Betty was still there, standing outside. May closed her mouth and pulled the blanket over her face.

“You know you have to go to school,” said Brian “Tell me what happened.”

May poked out her head from underneath the glorified towel and shakily pointed at where she thought Betty was.

“I don’t understand,” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“‘Etty,” said May hoarsely “Be-betty.”

“Betty?” he called out for his daughter “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Betty poked her head into the room and May hid herself “I was waking Chenda up.”

“Next time, be gentler, okay?” he ushered May and Betty both out.

“Uh-huh,” said Betty.

“Here are your clothes,” said the mother “You must’ve misplaced them.”

Then the adults left May alone with the girl again.

“I’ll make mommy and daddy take you away,” she said.

-

Cascadia was, predictably, full of raiders and other nasty stuff (why is most of the alien fauna composed of predators? Life doesn’t work that way!).

“Do we have a plan?” asked Ellie.

“Do we ever?” asked May.

“Remember when you tried to snipe marauders from the back . . . with a shotgun?” asked Parvati.

“I didn’t want to die for you - or, rather, with you,” she waved it off “But that escapade went remarkably well, if I might add.”

May took out her (new and improved!) vortex mace and charged into the research-lab-turned-raider-encampment-and-wildlife-concervation-area.

“This is why I prefer to snipe from the back, even with a shotgun,” Ellie sighed.

“For victory!” cried Felix and joined the charge.

Unfortunately, his loud yell notified all the raptidons in the region that a tasty snack was coming their way.

“Oh, yeah, now I have two morons to look after,” Ellie drew her weapon.

Parvati said nothing as she blasted a kind-of-but-not-really reptile to ash.

May swatted her mace at a raptidon like she had once swatted flies with a magazine. The creature dodged, then spat venom at her. Her flimsy useless armor melted off her frame. May ducked as another raptidon attempted to bite her, this one not venomous. The venomous raptidon bit her now-exposed left foot and May shrieked in pain. She buried her bludgeon into the back of the creature and it let go, now dead.

The still-living animal leapt at May, pinning her to the ground. Its large body pinned May’s left arm, her right arm free, but pretty useless. It sunk its jaws into May’s helmet, splitting and cracking it. She trashed, attempting to throw the lumbering beast off of her.

(oH SHIT OH FUCK OH SHIT OH FUCK)

May slowed down time just as the animal was about to bite through her helmet, then whipped her head to the side. The raptidon slipped, allowing May to turn on her side. She pulled her head back and the helmet slipped from her head, leaving the creature biting a useless shell. Then May pushed herself away from the raptidon. Time speeded up and the creature swatted May with a clawed foot.

However, her left arm was now free and she hit the raptidon with her mace. It died (just as planned). May took her inhaler and swapped out the party drug for Adreno. She felt a pang of longing as she put the drug away into her bag.

The lab looked very similar to any other secret lab. It contained robots and raiders.

“Even the robots think you’re useless, Felix,” said Ellie after he’d convinced the mechanicals that the adventurers were no threat.

“Don’t be a nag, Ellie,” said Parvati “Enjoy your moment of triumph, Felix.”

May looked around, feeling for her pocket. She had to get it over with and find that gas, then she would feel good.

“There’s a computer over there,” Parvati nudged her “We could call ADA.”

“Or, at least try to,” corrected Ellie.

May poked at the terminal distractedly, still thinking about her (only salvation) (greatest regret) hobby. To the relief of everyone present (except for the mechanicals, but they were in the other room, so . . .), ADA responded.

“You could’ve just landed me here in the first place, captain,” she said “I’m coming, don’t worry.”

“Sorry for leaving ya without supervision,” Ellie said (with surprising care!) “Anything bad happen while we were out?”

“If by bad you mean coming into contact with copious amounts of rain, then yes,” she confirmed “If you are referring to a loss of structural integrity, then no.”

Ellie and Parvati found a conveniently-placed window from where they watched The Unreliable land with relief.

“Have I ever told you how lucky you are to have such a ship, captain?” said Parvati.

“Yeah . . .” May rubbed the scratch on her side (maybe Hawthorne is haunting me because I didn’t bury him? But by now, it’s already too late to come back . . .) “. . . thanks . . .”

“This seems like an appropriate moment to suddenly remember the previous captain . . .” said Felix “Am I alone in this?”

“Uh . . .” said Parvati.

“..................” said May.

“Yeah, this is awkward,” said Ellie.

“How unfortunate that Alex Hawthorne has become someone to be forgotten about,” lamented ADA “However, I cannot disobey my current captain, who does not wish to broach this topic.”

“You’re still here?!” jumped Felix.

“I am always right there where I’m needed,” she said.

“.... I never said you can’t talk about Alex,” said May (dammit I swear this is like a running gag at this point) “You can tell anything about him as far as I care.”

“Really? You certainly didn’t seem to want that,” said ADA.

“Appearances deceive, accidentally or purposefully,” philosophised May (wow, so deep) (that was sarcasm, by the way. You’re still a moron, May).

“Let’s get that gas,” suggested Felix “No offense to Rizzo’s, but this place gives me the creeps.”

“Ah yes, the so pretentiously named Alta Vitae,” said Ellie “Things always sound more exclusive in Latin.”

May proceeded to another computer and button mashed again. She thought of the evening time, when she could relax with her inhaler.

Then everything went wrong because of course it did.

“Damage to internal structures detected,” informed them ADA “Calculating extent . . .”

“How did you manage that?” asked Felix.

“You just screwed us all over, moron,” Ellie said in a very serious tone.

“Unfortunately, I have been rendered stationary once more,” said ADA.

May felt as if her legs had turned to sand right under her. She gripped the terminal for stability.

(I guess my time as some savior is over)

(I guess I can’t do anything for Nate and Ann anymore)

(You’re ridiculous, May)


	16. Tough conversation to follow

May greeted her classmate with a nod, almost mechanically. He giggled for some reason, but she had learned to ignore such insignificant social cues. She reached her locker, turned around and . . .

. . . took in the sight.

There were pictures of her on the locker, taped together. May lay in a bed, her bed, smiling with closed eyes, wearing nothing but panties, not even a bra. Like she did every night when she slept. While the door was locked. Who could do that?

She didn’t need to theorize - Betty had gone to school before her.

May sat down right in the middle of the hallway. She had come to school fairly late. Everyone had seen these pictures. She didn’t want to touch her locker ever again. It was now tainted. She felt defiled. What else could Betty have done? What else could she have done while May was asleep, unconscious, unable to do anything, unaware? May wanted to vomit, right then and there.

(she’s always watching)  
(always somewhere close)

-

“What do we do now?” asked Parvati “Any plans?”

“Have we ever had a successful plan with our captain?” asked Ellie.

“You’ve paid your life debt - saved me on Scylla,” May regained her coherent speech “You can leave now.”

“Of course not. Someone needs to look after you morons,” she said “No offense, Parvati. You’re smart but I don’t think you can handle two idiots.”

“I guess not,” the mechanic agreed with a shrug.

“What do we do, then?” asked Felix “Wait, did you just call me an idiot?”

“We repair the ship, of course,” stated Ellie, disregarding Felix’s other question.

“Let’s see if I can do something,” said Parvati and headed over to the ship.

So did the others. May took the time to hang out in her room and rummage for another helmet. She liked wearing head protection, especially after what had happened to her face.

Some examination later, Parvati returned to her buddies “Fixed up what I could, but there’s still more damage. We need replacement parts for those.”

“How are you, ADA?” asked May.

“I am on a technical level capable of flight,” she answered “That doesn’t mean it is safe or advisable. I recommend further repairs.”

“We can go buy the parts in Fallbrook,” said Ellie “But we don’t have any money - no thanks to our darling captain.”

She looked pointedly at May, who hid her eyes. People searching for friendly eye contact were bad enough.

“We can take a loan,” suggested Felix.

“Yeah, from some loan shark with a 250% interest rate,” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“But we did pump in the gas - right, ADA?” wondered Felix.

“Affirmative. 95% of storage container filled.”

“See? We just gotta get this stuff to Lilya Hagen,” he said “I mean, it’s not like we’ll be in the Board’s pocket with one mission.”

“The road to hell is a slippery slope,” said May.

“How can you be so insightful and so stupid at the same time?” spat Ellie “How did you dod that, dammit? Were you even looking at what you did there?”

“Kinda . . .” said May.

“Exactly. From now on, if you encounter something you don’t understand, let the smart people help you,” she ordered “For fuck’s sake, do you ever think things through?! I can’t believe you just forced a dangerous and unknown substance through the pipes, through our ship! What if it was explosive?! What if it was corrosive?! What if it was poisonous and the pipes ruptured?!”

May put her hands over her ears. The sound was too loud, too close to her. Betty used to scream right into her ears, until she swatted her away. Human screams were always so much worse than the screeches of animals and the sounds of inanimate objects.

“Don’t- you’re not even listening!” fumed Ellie.

“You hurt my ears,” protested May.

Ellie rolled her eyes and said nothing (well, at least it’s quiet).

“Let’s go,” muttered May “No point in sitting around.”

They gathered their things and Parvati bade ADA farewell (wow, they really get along). The wilderness was filled with the usual - animals and raiders. No matter how many she killed, there were still more.

(why are you so okay with murder?)  
(humans are monsters. They took away my dad)  
(what about Ann? Nate? Your crew?)  
(they’re different. Special)  
(you’re a hypocrite)

“This place is so boring when we’re not being attacked,” complained Felix.

“Oh please. Don’t whine,” Ellie sighed in exasperation.

“I would prefer not to get attacked,” said Parvati “Boredom, unlike, say, mantisaurs, doesn’t kill.”

“True,” he admitted “Are there many loan sharks in Fallbrook?”

“More than your intelligence,” said Ellie.

“That stick up your ass must be very long indeed,” mocked Felix.

“Maybe you two shouldn’t talk right now?” suggested Parvati, stepping between them “It’s for the better, trust me.”

“I was done talking anyway,” said Ellie.

“Yeah, me too,” said Felix.

“Why are you angry at each other?! You should be pissed at me!” exclaimed May.

“Trying to be all noble and heroic, admitting your guilt and whatnot?” scowled Ellie.

“It doesn’t make sense! I mean, yelling really hurts me, so why bother him? He didn’t do anything!” the walking disaster pointed at Felix.

“I’ve already let out my frustration on you,” said Ellie “But I’m still pissed and there’s another moron I don’t like, so . . . anyway, this is too weird for me. I’ve never had to explain my behavior like this to anyone.”

“Everyone has their firsts,” stated May “So much for fostering unity and co-operation in my crew. I make for a pretty garbage captain.”

“You don’t need to foster unity, we already have Parvati,” noted Ellie “Yeah, you’re a pretty bad captain.”

“Um, thanks?” said Parvati “I don’t think you’re an awful captain, just inexperienced.”

“You’re always so gentle,” said May “Even when you told me off for wanting to steal the people’s power, you somehow weren’t particularly harsh.”

“Thanks,” said the engineer.

“You know, we could start telling stories! That’d be fun,” suggested Felix.

“That’s not a terrible idea,” agreed Ellie “Since you screwed this up, captain, why don’t you entertain us?”

“Uh, sure?” May felt the need to straighten her armor all of a sudden “So, I have this friend, Nathanael Bloke. Well, had. It’s complicated. So, we went to university together . . .”

“What’s that?” asked Felix.

“Like school, but more advanced,” said Ellie “Wait, you went to university?”

“Yes,” said May, feeling smug “I got a degree in useless and was on my way to become a scientist. Well, lab assistant - the one who writes down what the smarter people have learned. Then things didn’t go as planned.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of that,” Ellie sounded genuinely shocked “What’s this story of yours?”

“So, my friend Nate liked extreme stuff. And there was this garden shed that belonged to some old lady. He thought it’d be cool to study there,” May reminisced “So, he told me to come and take some books. He also said that I needed to look good. So, I put on my best sweater and borrowed some books from my neighbor. When I came, he was a bit disappointed that I was wearing so much clothes. I told him that it was cold in the shed, so of course I would.”

Ellie giggled. May glared at her and she stopped.

“He gave me flowers and an exclamation mark-shaped box of chocolate,” May continued “Then he stood on his knees very dramatically and asked if I loved him. I said that of course I did, he was my best friend, after all.” 

For some reason, everyone started to laugh. May waited until they’d stopped to continue.

“He looked a little disappointed, but then we started to study and it was real fun. Then the old lady came to open her shed. I shoved the books in my bag and we hid in the corners, behind the shelves. So, the granny went to take paint from the right shelf, where I was hiding. But it was so dark that I slipped out from behind the shelf and circled around the lady and tiptoed towards the exit. Then she took the paint and started to leave.”

May paused dramatically (this is so lame it’s not even funny).

“And?” said Felix “Oh, I know! She spotted you and you had to run for your life while she pulled out a shotgun!”

“No - Nate coughed. The granny turned and saw him. Now, I probably haven’t described Nate much to you, but he’s, like, the talles guy I’ve ever seen. And he’s very large too - not like fat, but like muscular, even though he doesn’t have any muscle. And he was holding this box of chocolate that resembled a bat or mace in the dark. The lady fainted and we both ran away. Then I returned the books and my neighbor nagged me because one had a rip on its cover, which, no matter what she may have said, was already there!”

“Wow, you sure friendzoned Nate hard,” smiled Ellie “His expectations were utterly destroyed.”

(um . . ?)

“I can almost feel his pain,” agreed Felix.

“I did what?” asked May.

“You turned down his advances,” explained Ellie “He wanted to have a nice, romantic date and you made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t a date.”

“Wait, WHAT?!!” May stopped where she stood “He had FEELINGS for me?! What? That’s so - he’s like my brother!!!”

“I knew you weren’t good with people, captain, but not to this extent,” said Ellie.

“Next time I see him, we’ll be having a talk,” May promised (WTF?!! WTH?!!).

“I’m sure he’ll understand, captain,” consoled her Parvati.

“I feel even more sorry for this guy,” said Felix.

(oh, blissful ignorance, how I love you. Oh, selective obliviousness, how I miss you)

(oh, Nate, how I have misunderstood you, my brother)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The brave wolf is well-fed, but the fearless wolf is covered in scars"  
\- Estonian proverb
> 
> . . . okay, I'm not completely sure if the last part is a proverb. It's just something my father always adds to the sentence.
> 
> Originaal: "julge hundi rind on rasvane, aga kartmatu hundi rind on haavu täis."


	17. The Long Talk

“What do I do?” May stared suspiciously at the inhaler offered to her “Do I just . . . put it to my face and breathe in?”

“Yeah,” said Lucas “Just breathe.”

They sat in a small circle of kids, May the youngest. She looked around, feeling like Betty could pop out at any moment and blind her with the flash of a camera.

“Don’t worry, your sister isn’t here,” continued Lucas “You’ll be fine, you’ll relax and feel good.”

(not my sister. Not my family. Not my life)

May put the inhaler to her mouth. It felt slightly sweaty. She took a breath, then another, her head filling up with a cloud that blotted out all she didn’t want to think about. The inhaler was taken from her hands and passed on to the next child. May stared blankly at it as it moved in the circle, thinking of nothing in particular.

“Asking strangely, is my feeling fine hopeful?” she prodded Lucas next to her “In what way normal?”

“Listen to yourself,” he muttered sleepily, then turned to the girl holding the inhaler “Don’t give her more.”

May tried to wiped her nose, but ended up smearing snot all over her face. Her head was very light, but that was okay, that way she couldn’t think of Betty anymore.

It was better that way.

-

“Hey, so since my parents are dead and so are Parvati’s and Ellie’s seem pretty gone too, what about your family?” asked Felix.

May stopped.

“I- well, have family. They is, um, my dad’s . . . dead. And my mom, uh, I don’t know . . .” she fumbled with words.

“Difficult to explain,” she wheezed, like she was out of breath.

“We have all the time in the world,” said Ellie, either sincerely or sarcastically.

“You told me you were on a colony ship,” said Felix “You know, the one which went missing.”

Ellie coughed.

(how is this my life know why do I have to explain this stuff)

“Yes. The Hope,” the words were so difficult to pronounce “As far as I know, something happened. So I’m a bit late to the party.”

“What,” said Ellie “How.”

May gesticulated wildly in order to compensate the lack of words.

“I don’t speak pantomime,” said Ellie.

May took a deep breath (this is gonna be awkward) “Signed to the Halcyon Initiative together my friends. Something happened to ship. I gets wake much year later, doesn’t know what why or how.”

“Uh . . . why do I suddenly feel like believing you and not dismissing you as a lunatic?” said Ellie.

“I wonder why the Board’s representative on the Groundbreaker was convinced you know something about Phineas Welles,” said Parvati “Maybe that’s because you’re working for him?”

(.....................seriously, now I have to explain why I’m working with a space terrorist to my new buddies who already don’t like me..........................)

“I’m sure you have a good reason . . . right, captain?” Felix looked at her, as if deliberately trying to make it worse for her.

“That makes it significantly easier for you to turn him over for the bounty money,” said Ellie.

(WHY IS THIS MY LIFE NOW THIS IS SO AWKWARD I CAN’T EVEN)

“Of course I has reasons,” said May and cringed. Badly.

“Why don’t you explain them, then? Don’t worry, we can wait,” Ellie assured her.

May looked at her feet, trying to formulate something - anything - to stop her interrogation.

“Poor communication kills, you know,” the medic not-so-subtly reminded her “It would be very unfortunate if something happened to you.”

“Are you threatening the captain?” Felix shouted.

“I’m being sincere. Working against the Board is firstly dangerous and secondly unprofitable,” Ellie explained.

“But working with them supports their tyranny and helps them run the colony into the ground!” protested Felix.

“I don’t think we can fix anything,” stated Ellie.

“I’m not sure, but things seem to be looking up in Edgewater,” said Parvati “If nothing else, the captain got something done there.”

“Never heard of that place,” said Ellie.

“That’s where I once lived and then met the captain,” clarified Parvati.

“So, why do I work for Phineas? He resurrected me from cryosleep. He says he’s gonna get everyone else out,” May (finally!) explained “Like my friends.”

“You’re actually very eloquent when you can get the thoughts together,” said Parvati.

“Basically, he screwed you over and made you do his dirty work,” Ellie summarized “He’s holding your desire to save your friends over you, to make you further his evil plan. He’ll get away with it, because the Board’s gonna be chasing you.”

(I don’t even know how Phineas is gonna resurrect them . . . this makes sense)

“.......haven’t thought like that before,” said May.

“I mean, I prefer to believe in the good of people, but this makes a lot of sense,” Felix rubbed his eyes “Dammit, boss, your life sucks.”

“I don’t know what to think,” admitted Parvati “No offense, captain, but you’re not a good judge of character. No offence, Ellie, but you’ve never met this fella.”

(what do I do? Do I just give up on Ann and Nate?)

(no)

(never)

“What do you think, captain?” Ellie carefully nudged her “Next time you meet Mr. Welles, you can find a way to turn him in. well, we could find a way. You’re not exactly someone I trust with a plan.”

“I don’t.” decided May “If there’s any opportunity, er, chance to save my friends, I will do as he says. Can’t give up. I believe Phineas 'coz I don’t know what I’ll do if my friends are gone.”

“I’m sorry,” Ellie patted her on the shoulder “Is that Nate who you mentioned on the Hope too?”

“Yeah,” May leaned closer to her buddy “So is Ann.”

“Tell me about her,” asked Parvati.

“She, um, she was my neighbor for many years. Name was Anastasiya Kovalenko. She was a cool scientist lady - never asked her age, but think she’s about fifty . . . hundred and twenty now,” explained May “I became a scientist to be like her. I cleaned her house sometimes or took out trash. She was very busy, that’s why. She didn’t like pay me, but she’d let me borrow her books. Oh, and she taught me how to make the  _ vareniki _ , which are potato dumplings! I could make some, if I got dough and something of similar consistency.”

“Yeah, we should try that,” agreed Felix “No offense, Parvati, but you don’t know how to cook.”

“I'm aware of that, yes,” said the engineer girl.

“That would be interesting to try,” agreed Ellie, putting her arm away “You owe a lot to these people, don’t you?”

“If not for Anastasiya, I’d be dead long ago,” stated May.

“That’s terrible! What happened to you?” asked Parvati.

(drugs, same as now)

(nononononononono)

“................” said May and hid her head.

“Okay. You can talk when you’re ready, we’ll wait,” assured Parvati.

“Usual persons don’t give mine time to wait,” said the captain “I not used to gathering thoughts.”

“Everyone has their firsts,” said Ellie.

“Yeah! You could try out Purpleberry Dinner for the first time too!” offered Felix.

“Ew,” May declined politely.

“You do you, then,” he shrugged and dropped the subject.

(no one ever waited for me)

(not even Nate and Ann)

(I really found some nice people, didn’t I?)

(too bad it won’t last)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, vareniki are potato dumplings and pelmeni are meat dumplings. Both are hugely popular in Estonia, being sold as frozen food ready to be cooked.


	18. Borrowed time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felix is a ketchup brand in Estonia. You're welcome.

May looked left, then right - but she wasn’t crossing the street. No, she was going to visit her pal Lucas. And his pals. And the pals of his pals. And so on. He really got around . . . to, er, socializing with a lot of people.

Betty wasn’t there, but she could pop out at any moment, from anywhere. With that dreadful camera of hers and an infectious smile. Only when May had her breath of life, only then was she too tired to care for Betty, too indifferent to fear her. Only then did the paranoia subside.

How unfortunate that the way to freedom also lead to death. May would rather die relaxed that die cowering in fear of Betty.

How unfortunate that there was no third option.

Or was there?

-

“Some extremely nice and totally not suspicious dude loaned us fifteen thousand bits,” said Ellie “We’ll probably have to pay back somewhere around two thousand, maybe even thirty thousand.”

“Nah, fifty thousand sounds more like it,” said May.

“I’d say something uplifting, but given the situation, my optimism fails me,” said Felix.

“Let’s check out the parts for sale,” Parvati commanded “I’ll need you to carry the stuff.”

“You remember what we need, yes?” asked May.

“No, I made a list. You should try that sometime, captain,” suggested the engineer.

May looked at her right arm and sighed.

“Sorry,” said Parvati “I almost forgot. You can do most things just fine with the left one.”

“But not draw,” she frowned “I said I’d teach you.”

“That was long ago, you don’t need to,” said Parvati.

The amount of bit cartridges they now had barely fit into their pockets. The amount of bit cartridges they would have to pay back was even more staggering. May left her friends to poke at engine parts and wandered around town.

Soon, her legs carried her over to a stand simply titled “The freshest air on Monarch”. It was pretty obvious, what they sold. May inspected the product lineup - most of the inhalers were (extensively) used, most of the inhalant boxes were damp or dirty. Her hands hovered over the cleanest-looking cylinders (what’s it matter? You don’t know what they put into ‘em anyway) as she counted the bits in her mind.

“Gotcha!” Felix grabbed her by the shoulders “You know how you shouldn’t?”

“................” May adjusted her helmet.

“You may be the boss, but Parvati ordered us all to carry the stuff,” he steered her away from the drug stand “And if there’s one thing I know about spaceships, it’s that you don’t argue with the person who fixes yours.”

“Otherwise unfortunate accidents occur,” May finished his thought.

She was promptly and unceremoniously reunited with (the rest of) her crew and a large amount of suspiciously-shaped plastic bags were dumped onto her.

“Don’t overload her, she has an arm injury to recover from,” commanded Ellie.

“Don’t argue with the person who bandages your wounds,” May dropped another tidbit of folk wisdom.

“Wait a sec - you’re the captain, Parvati’s the mechanic and she’s the doctor,” Felix connected a few dots “. . . I’m the only person who can be argued with.”

“You’re also the only guy,” said Ellie “Should’ve chosen another ship to slave on, no?”

“I regret nothing.” he stated.

“Me too, with one exception,” said Ellie and looked very pointedly at May.

She averted her gaze, thankful for the nice thick helmet.

After a long (more like a looooooooooooooooong) (you’re not funny, May) slog through the wilderness that seemed to spawn two mantisaur drones for every they killed, they got back to Cascadia. Predictably, no sane person had gone there in their absense. The one raider who was getting high in a nearby building was (predictably) shot dead. May would’ve taken his drugs, but they weren’t the ones she used.

The Unreliable was repaired without anything going very wrong, although a wrench did fall onto May’s head.

“So you’re the comic relief too,” discovered Ellie.

May groaned and held her head in her hands.

“I wonder what head injury in combination with cryotrauma do to a person,” she wondered “Guess I have the opportunity to find out.”

“I’m already someone else’s test subject, sorry,” said May, regaining her “composure”.

“What the space terrorist don’t know can’t hurt him.” said Ellie.

“Except a well-placed shot with from a sniper rifle,” disagreed the captain.

“True,” Ellie nodded and went to get a drink.

The drink turned into two, then three, then four. Predictably, they didn’t wash away her life problems, only adding them to the lives of others.

“You’re so stupid,” slurred Ellie, attempting to lean onto May’s shoulder “If I was captain of this rust bucket-”

“Who are you calling a rust bucket?” ADA got angry “You should know that this vessel is a marvel of interstellar craftsmanship and technological innovation, a shining example of-”

“Yeah, I get it,” Ellie finally managed to hook an arm over her (helpless victim) captain “Sorry, ADA. Hey, what’s the deal with your foot captain?”

“Get off me! There’s nothing wrong with my foot, you shiteater!” May struggled in the vice grip of her employee.

“Don’t be so rude . . . we all eat the same,” Ellie continued choke-hugging her captain.

“When do we arrive at the Groundbreaker, ADA?” May stopped struggling, resigning herself to her fate.

“Calculating . . . estimated travel time: four hours, thirty six minutes,” said ADA.

(this is gonna suck)

And it did suck, because after a while, the liquor turned out to be Spacer’s Choice and Ellie promptly vomited it all onto May.

“Why are you so averse to it?” asked Parvati, while leading Ellie away to her room “Me ‘n all the people in Edgewater drink that just fine.”

“You’re Spacer’s Choice employees,” explained the (rather) hungover woman “Only you can eat their “food”.”

May tested out the movement range of her fingers. They moved just fine, but her arm was still difficult to rotate.

“I can teach you to draw now!” she all but burst into Parvati’s room.

“Um,” Parvati was naked, holding a pajama shirt in her hands “Maybe later?”

(..........!!!!.......)

May ducked out of the room and closed the door.

(.........!.........)

(she’s, ah, pretty hot, no?)  
(no wonder she scored)  
(how is my mind this dirty I’m aro-ace)

The next day, May brought the gas to Lilya Hagen and got paid quite handsomely (handsomely? But I’m a woman! Prettily, then?). The next mission was to hijack a space station.

“Great idea! After all, if they knew it was salvage, they could sell it to someone else and that would be unthinkable!” said May.

“A space station? Cool!” said Felix, without the usual lemme-tell-you-of-the-evils-of-capitalism.

“That’s the spirit!” said Lilya “Keep it up and your employment with SubLight may become more permanent - and profitable!”

“What she meant by that is that she is going to have enough blackmail on you to force us to work for her,” whispered Ellie back in the elevator “That’s not necessarily bad - they pay well.”

“I understood that myself, thanks,” said May.

On the space station, there were security robots. And mines. The armor on May’s left leg was once again reduced to a smoldering heap.

“I’m sure there’s and ID here somewhere,” said Ellie.

“Who cares? It’s abandoned!” said May and smacked down another robot (oh, sorry, mechanical).

As it turned out, the station wasn’t as abandoned as it seemed. Operatives of the Board tracked them down quite easily.

“It’s abandoned, she said. No one cares for it, she said.” mocked Ellie “What are you gonna do now, genius?”

“Where is it . . .” May’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, in clear view of the UDL officer looking on from the video communicator “Ah, here! The self-destruct button! If I can’t have this space station, NO ONE CAN!”

The commander looked at May, then at Ellie. Then at Felix.

“You’ll never take us alive, corporate scum!” he hollered.

“FOR THE REVOLUTION!” May chimed in and bushed a random button.

“Ah! Guys, we’re getting outta here!” squeaked the fearless soldier “Quickly, everyone out! I can explain to the boss, don’t worry!”

“Thanks, Felix,” said Ellie, with surprising care.

“Always ready to help out,” he made a mock bow (of humility).

The space station made the crew quite rich . . . if one discounted their debt.

“Let’s go to Fallbrook and pay some of that back,” said Ellie “And anyway, we have things to do on Monarch.”

Their wealth turned to poverty soon enough and they went to secure a printing press from a place in the middle of nowhere, crawling with raider because of course it was. May thought about her astronomical kill count and decided to shelf her morality for the moment (how does it feel to be a wuss, May?).

Then the merry band of roving killers made their way to the Devil’s Peak.

“Can’t imagine what goes down here,” said Ellie as they neared the structure “Why is the mountain like that? Maybe ‘cause the information broker’s willy is two-pronged, no?”

“Ew,” said May and Felix in unison.

“You’re welcome,” Ellie winked.

The tower was crawling with raiders because OF COURSE it was.

May felt her left arm getting a bit tired.


	19. Friday the 13th

“I’m so sorry about your sister,” said Anastasiya, staring at May’s back as the girl swept the floor.

“I’m not. I hate her,” May had nothing to fear, because Betty was dead dead dead.

“Er, alright,” said Anastasiya “It’s alright to feel angry.”

“I’m not angry. I’m happy,” said the teenager, scrubbing the floor with renewed vigor.

“If you say so,” said the woman in a strange tone of voice “I’ll go read in the living room. Put the broom and bucket back in the closet when you finish.”

“Sure,” said May.

She remembered how pitiful her sister had seemed, crumpled and folded onto herself at the base of the stairs. How hideous had she been in her final moments! May remembered watching as Betty was rushed away to the hospital, knowing that she wouldn’t be back. It was a surprisingly nice feeling, to know that May had taken Betty from their parents, not the other way around. It was surprisingly nice to know that there was no Betty, after May had gotten over the initial disgust.

Now that there was no Betty, May could be calm. And that meant that she could give up the calming inhalants she took with Lucas.

. . . right?

-

The Information Broker was snarky and tall, just like the kind of person for May to (annoy) get to know better. And he had walls covered in MOTHERFRICKIN’ DIALS. For some reason, Felix and Ellie steered her away from the pretty pretty buttons (where’s the big red one? You know, the self-destruct button that any evil lair must have?).

“Are you planning on taking over the world from your evil tower of ominousness?” asked May.

She could swear she heard someone facepalm behind her.

“No, I was a damsel held captive in my own home,” said Hiram “I’m doing nothing suspicious in here.”

“So you’re not an evil overlord secretly working from the shadows to control the populace?” May was disappointed “I thought you’d be watching everyone and know everything about everyone.”

“Don’t antagonize our gracious ally,” said Ellie and winked at Hiram for some reason.

“I’m exceptionally harmless,” he assured her and winked back at Ellie for some reason “I don’t actually keep track of most people and their dealings in this star system.”

“How unfortunate,” sighed the wannabe starship captain “So, you set now to broadcast some, uh, sensitive information?”

“If only I was,” he sighed and started explaining.

As it turned out, the only way to get the data sent was to fix the political situation on Monarch.

“We’re screwed,” said Ellie, looking very pointedly at May for some reason “It’s hard enough to keep our captain from murdering those who look at her leg funny, but negotiating?”

“I’m sure your intrepid crew of space pirates can think of something,” he said, glancing briefly at May’s leg (like they always do).

“I don’t think!” exclaimed the intrepid captain “Breathing, eating and shooting are all functions of my autonomous nervous system! I probably look capable of higher thought, but that’s not the case.”

“Were you serious or was that some fine sarcasm?” Ellie turned to look at her “Sometimes it’s hard to tell if you’re genuinely stupid or just playing it up to amuse people.”

“I don’t know myself,” shrugged May “Anyway, let’s go. We have a ceasefire- uh, radio silence to negotiate!”

“This will go very well, I’m sure of it,” said Hiram in a resigned tone of voice.

“Like everything else we do,” said Ellie extremely unenthusiastically.

“Don’t be killjoys,” said Felix “If you want a plan, think of one yourselves.”

“Well, if you insist . . .” began the information broker, but May was already out of the door, clattering down the stairs “Wait! Don’t let her touch anything!”

“On it, sir!” Ellie gave him a mock salute and rushed out, just in time to stop May from poking a suspicious box with her middle finger.

“I’m sure it doesn’t explode,” May attempted to justify her evil deeds.

“Do you have a plan, Ellie?” Felix arrived on the scene.

“We need to do stuff for MSI and the Iconoclasts,” Ellie stared at him “Until we’re in good enough graces to ask for a favor. Isn’t that obvious? We could also come in and kill everyone, or sabotage their equipment, but good luck with that.”

“I think we should pay back our loan first,” said May.

“Good idea! Catherine had work available last time, remember?” said Felix.

“Who?”

“The lady in Fallbrook who runs the place.” he explained.

The merry band of misfits, miscreants and murderers got moving, mowing down any mantisaur or maniac on their mysterious mission.

“I just realized that loaner likely works for SubLight,” said Ellie “They really got us deep, didn’t they? I should’ve seen this coming.”

“And now we’re in the Board’s pocket,” sighed Felix “One job here, another one there . . . that’s how it always goes.”

“This too much to think about,” May straightened her helmet “Can’t keep track of things that happen.”

“Maybe if you did less drugs, you’d be more focused?” Felix nudged her.

“Nothing I can do anymore,” May grimaced “Should’ve restrained myself sooner. Wish I’d been left to rot on the Hope, not brought into . . . this.”

“I understand the sentiment,” said Ellie “However, the notion that you’d prefer death to the future says a lot about you or the future. Probably both.”

In a raider camp, they found a small listening device. It was even intact. May, sensing opportunity, installed it into her helmet while no one was looking. Well, “installed”. She mostly just crudely glued it to the faceplate. But everyone was none the wiser and that was the main point.

Later that day, when Felix slept and May was “relieving herself” in nearby bushes, she tried it out. The recording was a little shaky, but mostly intelligible. May deleted the disembodied voices of her friends.

Now she had the bug, she was the boogeyman to steal secrets. She was the one who watched silently in the night, she was the one who listened on intimate conversations. No longer was she the victim, the one who cowered in fear of the unknown. Now she was the unknown stalker in the dark and it was a damn good feeling.

It was a damn good feeling to know that everything Betty had done in her live had ultimately been for nothing. Except for getting May hooked on drugs. Damn whore.

“So, you want me to sabotage C&P so you can take it over for SubLight?” asked May.

“Exactly,” said Catherine “I don’t care how you do it, but I want them out of business.”

“Yes, ma’am!” exclaimed May, trying to appear loyal and not suspicious.

“And remember, a member of the family always pays their debts,” she continued.

“How do you know about that?” squawked May.

“I know everything important that goes down here, captain. Keep that in mind next time you’re short on funds,” she smirked.

May rolled her eyes under the helmet and skittered out like the good little corporate servant she now was. In the street, she spied a curtain. A very large, but fairly thin curtain. May looked to the left, then to the right and crossed it, as per safety regulations. She tore down the curtain and hid it in her bag.

“Why’d you do that?” Felix whispered.

“I’m thinking I could repair my clothing with it,” she explained “Especially the one I wear under my chestplate, the shirt’s got a lot of holes.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest,” Ellie shook her head.

The curtain actually came in handy in another way. The front entrance to the factory was (predictably) blocked, but there was a large back (sewer) entrance.

“Wait for me here, crew,” whispered May.

“Sure thing, captain,” Felix nodded.

“If you won’t be back within half an hour, I’m going in there and hauling your sorry ass outta here,” warned Ellie, in a tone of voice not to be argued with.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” May dismissed her.

The tunnel was where they dumped waste into the river. May had an idea. She took her armor off, leaving only the undershirt (or remains thereof) and pants. Then she took off her shoes and draped the curtain over her. With a knife she always kept in one of her pockets, she clumsily poked eyeholes into the rag. May crawled through the tunnel, arriving at the feeding area of the cystipigs. Some animals detected her, making distressed sounds. She found a ladder leading to one of the upper levels and crawled up it.

There were people on the upper level, guards and workers. In one swift movement, May scaled the ladder and came face-to-face with her adversaries. Aided by her peculiar power, May drew her two pistols (like the Spacer’s Choice mascot! . . . nevermind, that’s not cool) and took aim.

“My dear friends!” she bellowed, gesticulating as extremely as possible “I have come to meet with your glorious master! Unfortunately, the guards and their robot pests at the gate blocked my path. Fear not, for the Pinky Prickler always finds a way . . . in!”

The people stopped in their tracks, eyes scanning the trespasser from head to toe.

“. . . what,” said the guard “. . . how.”

“If she wants to see Clyde, let her,” said another “He has a deficit of the special ingredient anyway.”

“T-this way,” pointed an employee.

“How nice of you to allow me to bask in your gracious radiance!” May bowed her head and bounded up a few more ladders (C&P sure loves their ladders).

“This will be a story to tell the grandkids,” was the only thing the janitor could say.

May glided up another ladder (seriously how many of those are here?) and appeared before the king of the castle, who she promptly gunned down. May jumped out of the room, while time around her slowed and leapt from the high office, expecting to be able to use her curtain as a parachute. However, May wasn’t in a cartoon and so she plummeted feetfirst into the cystipig feeding troughs.

Her left foot cracked and splintered under her weight like a cracker mashed against a table. Her right foot bended like a gummy candy, twisting as if it had no bones. The pain came a second later, the dunce almost crying out in agony. May sunk into the vile goop used to feed the pigs, blinking. She heard voices nearing her and with a groan, she forced herself out of the slurry.

May crawled towards the tunnel, only dimly aware of the shapes and shadows behind her. Her shins jutted out from her knees at unnatural angles, sticking up like twigs. May grasped the loose dirt and other stuff with her fingers, spots of black dancing in her field of vision whenever her feet moved by just an inch.

“There she is!” a guard cried out from behind her.

“Look at her legs!” shouted another “She’ll never walk again!”

“Let’s put her out of her misery then,” decided the first.

May hooked her left hand into the muck faster, her knees scraping against sharp pieces. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, like her throat was full of dirt and itchy sand. Tears pricked at her eyes as she strained to keep them open, to keep herself going. She felt tired and weak, like her hands couldn’t hold on to anything, like her fingers couldn’t curl around a loose patch of dirt.

The guard took aim.

“No! No!” screamed May, looking back at him in the dim light of the tunnel “You can’t! You can’t!”

He pretended not to listen.

Then he was shot down by a shotgun blast.

“Ellie!” May gasped “You came! You came for me!”

“You’re stupid,” said Ellie “And ridiculous.”

She hoisted May up roughly. The reckless moron let out a screech of pain, her head spinning and vision swimming. Ellie dragged her kicking and screaming (well, feebly poking) captain out into the sunlight.

“What did you do this time, boss?” Felix looked at her in horror.

Instead of answering, May fainted like the damsel in distress she was.

When she woke up, it felt like her legs burned and she could do nothing to stop the pain. May groaned and clenched her eyes shut.

“Oh stars, easy, easy,” Felix held her “Ellie patched you up real good. Your feet will be just fine.”

“Now I know what’s up with your left one,” she proclaimed triumphantly “By the way, now you owe me a life debt.”

“Tell back Catherin,” mumbled May, twisted like a pretzel on the ground.

“Well, at least you got something done,” sighed Ellie “I suggest looking into rehab.”

May grimaced “Has point.”

“Finally,” Ellie sighed again, this time seemingly of relief “These inhalants cloud up your mind, whether you’re high or not.”

May made the mistake of moving her toe and another wave of pain crashed into her. She groaned and Felix patted her back.

“Thankfully, Fallbrook isn’t far,” said Ellie “But you’ll have to be carried, captain.”

(as if I need more humiliation)

In Fallbrook, there weren’t many painkillers for sale and so, Felix was left to babysit May.

“What kind of hero ‘m I if all I do is get hurt and screw things over?” she asked, cringing from the unending agony.

“I don’t know,” said Felix “That’s something you gotta think for yourself, boss.”


	20. Refund, please?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last flashback, unless I'm feeling particularly cruel and decide to add one more. Enjoy (or suffer)!

“Hello there,” Anastasiya sighed tiredly “Good to have a free cleaning service these days. My back isn’t what it used to be.”

That wasn’t quite the reason May wanted to see her neighbor, but she didn’t dare refuse her. May entered the small dark apartment and took the broom and rags from their usual spot. Anastasiya sat behind the computer, working. May had always known she’d be a scientist, just like her, but the job sure seemed horrible and paid badly. No matter, she would be like Anastasiya. The girl saw no other future for herself.

After a while, the flat was as clean as it could be. May returned the scrubbing equipment to its rightful place and approached Anastasiya. There were things she wanted to say, but her mouth felt like it was glued shut.

“Something you need?” the woman turned in her lovely spinning chair.

“Um . . . I has problem,” her mouth felt like it was full of dough.

“I’m listening,” said Anastasiya.

“So, um, I needs tell parents fact,” she began shakily “That I . . . I . . .”

“Yes?” the cool old(er) lady pestered her for answers.

“I am, uh, takes inhalants. Try to tell parents, can’t,” May flapped her hands around.

She was weak. Couldn’t talk about her problem, couldn’t fix it, not even after Betty’s death.

“What’s the deal with you and your parents?” Anastasiya sighed in exasperation “I’ll talk to them, fine.”

“When?” May stared at the woman’s ear with wide eyes.

“I suppose there’s no point in delaying that,” she said annoyedly and got up from her nice, comfy chair.

-

Years later, May could still remember the intense gratitude she had felt then. Anastasiya had always seemed so approachable, so willing to deal with May’s problems, even though grudgingly. May wondered if she would ever find anyone similar, if she would ever have Ann back. 

Currently, Anastasiya was as far away as she could be, adrift in outer space. May lay on a rented bed in a cheap hotel, the mattress made of granite, surrounded by lights too bright and all manner of lowlives. Did she mention that her legs were completely busted, left foot kept together by stitches and right foot shriveled like dried bread?

“The good news: we only have three hundred bits to pay, unless the debtor decides to raise the price. Which he, undoubtedly, will,” Ellie strode into the room, lugging a long stick of sorts “The bad news: our limited finances had to be spent on this.”

She threw a crutch at May, then the other. The captain grimaced in pain as one of the sticks grazed her foot.

“Since you’re so good at ruining us, why don’t you think of a solution, genius?” she continued “That university degree must’ve come from somewhere. Or maybe you got it from shagging the professors?”

“They had been all bald old men, no way I would’ve-” May began “Anyway, I don’t do intercourse.”

“Sheesh, get your grammar in order,” she made her annoyance even clearer “Graduate.”

“Let me guess, most medical professionals in Halcyon have no idea what a degree looks like,” Felix chimed in “I sure don’t.”

“It’s like a paper that you work your ass of for and end up in debt,” explained Ellie “Supposed to show your knowledge, but most graduates do so due to knowing the right person to pay off.”

“The grass was greener back then too,” agreed May “Not like now.”

“Sometimes I forget you’re actually older than all of us,” Felix shook his head “How old, exactly?”

“Ninety three,” she shifted her weight.

“You’re a damn museum specimen,” said Ellie “A living fossil. You make me feel young, captain.”

“Still feel twenty three,” May waved dismissively “So I think I could paint armors for all the lowlives here. Every criminal is a secret fashionista, you know? Just need some spray paint of many colors.”

“Yeah, fashionista,” Ellie snorted “You haven’t been around criminals much, I can see.”

“I mean, they need someone to paint pretty skulls on their pauldrons,” disagreed Felix “We’re getting that spray paint, boss. Come on, give them crutches a go.”

“But our finances-” began the doctor and was promptly ignored.

May leaned awkwardly onto her two new feet and felt a sharp pang in her old legs (remember the last time?) (don’t remind me). She heaved herself onto the fragile-seeming crutches and followed Felix (good thing you have experience) (SHUT UP) through the totally-not-suspicious badly lit corridors.

“What colors do we need?” he asked her “I mean, I love purple, but will our clientele love it too?”

“White for skulls, red for blood, black for FUCK YOU,” May said, cringing under her helmet.

The crutches of TEH FUTUER were worse than before. So were the computers and drawing pads and food. Everything that was good on ole Earth was rebranded by corporations and replaced with cheap knockoffs. May regretted joining the Halcyon Initiative even more.

(can I sue them for deceptive advertising?)  
(probably not)  
(how unfortunate that the bureaucracy is so huge and I’m so small)

“Hey there, travelers!” they were approached by a merchant wandering on the streets “I sell everything - even that which you do not need!”

“For example,” he bent down to May’s level “A ribbon for this lovely maiden or her crutch!”

May spat him in the face. And missed. Fortunately for her, the trader seemed to pay her no mind as he turned to face Felix.

“Or a nice skull cap for this lady’s dashing boyfriend,” he summoned a hat into his fingers and waved it in front of Felix.

May attempted to punch him, but as soon as she took her hand off a crutch, she fell into the mud. The captain hissed in pain, both physical and mental (ow, my dignity, ow).

“We’re not dating,” said Felix and attempted to swat away the smarmy hat.

(reminds me of Nate and I)  
(oh how history repeats itself)

“That can be easily fixed, just like that awful jacket of yours!” the trader continued, completely oblivious to Felix’s unease “Could I recommend this nice, checkered shirt?”

May felt more rage building up and crawled carefully towards the utter nuisance. 

“Do you have spray paint?” the demolitions expert stepped between May and the merchant, inadvertently saving the man’s life.

“Why would you need something as lame as that?” he didn’t have any in stock “Might I recommend these canid-feather brushes, made by the finest-”

“We only need spray paint, bye,” said Felix and proceeded to drag his hissing and spitting captain away “Yeesh, boss, calm down. Easy, easy- wait, where did your crutches go?”

“You fu-” he let go of May and chased after the shady trader “Those are hers, you bastard! She can’t even walk and now you’re stealing her crutches!”

The crowd agreed and quickly intercepted the merchant to deliver some much-needed mob justice.

May sat alone amidst a mass of people that moved like an amoeba, surrounding her, ready for digestion. She couldn’t do anything without her crutches. She was useless.

“Here you go, Limpleg,” a woman gave her back the sticks.

(how did she know?) May stared, dumbfounded. These crutches were hers. She was really Limpleg. There was really something wrong with her left foot. Everything she had feared in her childhood had come true. It was real.

(..........................................)

The only way to escape this reality, this new truth was with her inhaler. The drugs took her to a place where there was no betrayal, where there was no need for her to be fit and healthy and ready to kill, where her left leg was just like any other left leg.

May never believed in religion, but she felt like there was something out there. Something that wanted her to suffer, to die slowly in agony. Why else would she live through so many horrors? She just couldn’t be that unlucky. It just couldn’t be coincidence.

Why did she have to be everyone’s savior? She was just a meaningless lab assistant, supposed to remain as an unimportant cog in the bureaucratic machine. She was not a fighter or a statesman, or a strategician. Phineas should’ve chosen someone else to do his dirty work.

Once upon a time, May was a student, earning extra washing test tubes and cleaning out toilets. Now she was the errand girl of a space terrorist, murdering space bandits left and right, while solving the problems of people much smarter and more competent than her.

In short, her life fucking sucked and there was nothing she could do about it except jump off a cliff.


	21. Screw you, sincerely

“What you thinkin’ about?” Felix tapped May on the shoulder, stopping her thought train(wreck).

“Nothing important, just feeling sorry for myself,” she shrugged “Why’d it take so long?”

“I found where they sell spray paint!” he exclaimed “Come on, get up and scan them with your artistic sixth sense.”

May begrudgingly lifted herself up and limped after him to a totally-not-suspicious hole in the wall that was supposed to be a doorway. She entered and felt the unmistakable stench of glue being boiled.

“Poor man’s inhalants,” said May, cringing from the toxic aroma.

“What colors do you have?” Felix shouted at the woman behind the counter.

The lady kept staring, far too high to pay attention to lowly mortals.

“What colors?” he pointed to the shelf behind the vendor “Bottles. There. What different kinds do you have for sale?”

“Keep talking,” May whispered to him and moved closer to the stand.

“Do you really run a shop while getting constantly high?” Felix continued “Do you get many customers?”

May identified red, black and white spray paint and carefully positioned herself on her crutches.

The shop, as it turned out, had a second floor. And from that second floor came footsteps.

But May was superhuman and so she stuffed the bottles into her backpack in the (literal) blink of an eye. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite as agile as usual and fell onto her bum, the right crutch clattering uselessly to the ground. She was suddenly reminded of an old swear word that her classmates used (I wonder why?).

“Ah, customers!” a young man came down the steps “Sorry, I had to leave. Did my mother give you much trouble?”

“Next time, just leave the store unattended,” said Felix.

“What do you need? We have many art supplies and- mom, not the glue!” he ran to his old woman “It was for sale!”

The lady said nothing, her head drooping.

“I don’t think we’ll fing what we’re looking for here,” May grimaced in pain as she heaved herself up “Let’s go.”

They left, the stench of glue still clinging to their clothes.

“Stars, I’m glad we’re outta there.” Felix shook his head “Anything else you need?”

“A sign,” she said “To write on. Anything large, pale and cardboard should suffice.”

“On it, boss!” he smiled and disappeared into the mass of people.

May sat down, leaning on a prefabricated domicicle. And waited. And waited. While waiting, she opened one of the paint cans and tried it out on the sidewalk and witnessed a robber escaping a house through the chimney (why does it have a chimney anyway?). The burglar wore a thick red coat and had an equally thick beard. He was quite agile for someone so fat, but was quickly subdued.

“Ho ho ho!” said the criminal wannabe as he got carried away.

After a while, Felix returned, carrying a blotchy yellow cardboard and a fineliner.

“Oh! You thought about that too!” May smiled and took the pen and paper.

HELP STARVING ARTIST:  
HELMET PAINT 20 BITS  
ARMOR PAINT 50 BITS  
FULL ARMOR PAINT 100 BITS

“The cash’s gonna come rollin’ in,” Felix daydreamed “You should’ve charged more, boss.”

“Oh! Look! Our first customer!!!” May would’ve sprung up if not for her crushed feet (owowowowowowowow).

The woman read the advertisement, then looked at the artist and left in a hurry.

“There goes our first customer . . .” said Felix.

“Don’t worry, she’s not our last,” May motioned to another person who was coming towards them with a spring in their step.

The person wanted to get skulls painted on their pauldrons. Bloody skulls. May was all too happy to oblige. Bits were counted and given away.

“We’re gettin’ rich,” Felix smiled as another potential customer approached “Hey there my good man! Would you care for some decoration on that armor of yours? I think it could use a little something to spice it up.”

“Um . . .” he examined the prices “Could I get a raptidon face painted on my helmet?”

“I don’t have any blue,” said May “Or green. Would black, white or red be good enough?”

“Black, maybe?” he shrugged “Would it look good with the armor though?”

“Of course it will,” May took the can of spray paint.

During the day, many more people came to help the starving artist and her buddy. The can of black paint was almost depleted by the end of the rotational cycle (I wonder why all these brooding edgelords- er, I mean hardened gangstas like black so much?) (really? No idea).

May heaved herself back onto her crutches, her left foot burning like hellfire. She groaned and caught several pitying glances. With a resigned sigh, she prepared to make her way to the super clean and nice public restrooms.

“I wonder where’s Ellie?” Felix asked when they went into the ented room.

“Let’s ask around,” said May “Well, you ask. I don’t feel so good.”

As it turned out, Ellie had attempted to win money through gambling. She was arrested for cheating, which she totally didn’t do because she was such an honest gal.

Felix also went and paid off the debtor which was a stupid thing to do because now they had no money. Which meant that they were promptly kicked out because gruesome leg injuries meant nothing in Fallbrook when the bits weren’t flowin’.

“Oh come on!” Felix got an impromptu shower once he stepped outdoors “It wasn’t even cloudy during the day!”

“Where are we gonna sleep?” pouted May, cringing from the pain all the while.

“I got an idea!” he said suddenly “Remember how we used an old comm terminal in the secret lab to call ADA? Maybe we could call her here too!”

“I wonder how much it costs to use the landing bay terminal,” May sighed and shifted her weight.

“Heey, we’re thieves!” Felix whispered “I’m sure no one will be looking.”

As it turned out, there was triple the security that night, because Catherine Malin had something of vital importance delivered to her.

“Yikes,” said Felix “Well, I guess we’ll have to find a domicicle with rafters. Not that these are common, mind you . . .”

May, however, had another idea. She heaved herself onto the authorized landing pad, looking like some random straggler waiting for a pickup freighter. She waited for the right moment and heaved herself over to the dockside terminal. Felix shook his head in the distance, not trusting in her abilities. His assessment of her power was quite apt, as a guard turned around and immediately apprehended May.

“What are you doing?” the woman asked the master of stealth.

“Wanted to see if my friends were coming,” May told a facsimile of the truth.

“Pay up then,” the guard’s scowl was so intense it could be felt outside her full-face helmet “Thirty bits.”

“That’s more than I charge for a helmet paint job!” protested the captain “And anyway, I’m broke.”

“Very well,” said the local “Then I’ll take everything you own and you’ll get to spend a night in the slammer.”

“Sure, officer,” May handed her large, bulky bag for the lady to carry.

“All your stuff,” said the guard.

“How will I walk without my crutches?” smirked the spacefaring idiot “Unless you’d like to carry me, officer.”

“Fine, keep them,” the woman tried to pretend she wasn’t angry at all.

May then limped to the jail with surprising speed. Felix stayed out of trouble like the good boy he was, giving his captain a very confused look before she moved past him at the pace of a sprinter snail (I feel the need . . . the need for speed) (why do I always manage to make myself cringe?).

In the domicicle-turned-very-secure-and-utterly-inescapable-jail-yes-really, May was stripped (to the bone) to her underwear and helmet. When the guards on duty wanted to remove her protective face covering, the tough and badass space captain threw such a tantrum that they resolved to simply leave her the helm (and their eardrums intact).

“You here too, captain?” Ellie gaped in shock as a certain someone was herded before her cell.

“I needed a place to sleep,” May shrugged as she was unceremoniously thrown into another cell where five hardened criminals already resided.

The sleeping lowlives weren’t very happy to be roused from the slumber and have to share their cell with another inmate, but May knocked them all out with her good ole fists (everybody gangsta til the captain come in) (.....stop).

“This jail only has five cells, so be careful!” Ellie shouted to her and roused the criminals from their forced slumber.

May sighed and put them to rest again with her pointy-stabby fingers. Then she had a good sleep, while her enemies were plagued with horrid nightmares of having their eyes gouged out by pointy-stabby finger(nail)s. The morning was cloudy with a chance of instant death. May’s legs somehow felt worse than before.

She was released, got most of her stuff back (except for the pistol) (bastards) (this is the second time already what the hell) and cantered (well, limped) out of the door like a free woman. Ellie soon joined her friend, a little rattled from having to sleep with fellow criminals.

“How did you lose all your bits?” she wondered bitterly.

“I gave it to the debtor,” said May “So we’re no longer bound to this stupid arrangement.”

“And that’s why you literally got imprisoned to have a roof over your head,” Ellie shook her head “It would do you good to start thinking with your head.”

“Says the person who was busted for cheating in a card game,” May rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t cheat!” protested the medic “Look at me! Pure, unadultered honesty wafts off this body!”

“Hey, maybe I could make us money by playing cards,” May thought to her power of time-slowing “I was real good at that once, but it’s been so long. Could you teach me the card games of the future?”

“Fine, but I don’t think you should try to play for bits. It won’t end well, believe me,” agreed Ellie.

The cards of TEH FUTUER weren’t that different to the cards of the past. The king, jack and queen were now CEO, priest (of the OSI) and secretary respectively. The jokers were janitors for some reason (never mess with the person who cleans your toilets, I guess?). May really wanted to see how she could use her power to cheat at cards, but Ellie stopped her.

“I think we could send a message to the ship,” suggested May “McNinja.”

“Don’t doubt my abilities, I’ll get it done,” promised Ellie “Go find Felix.”

May accidentally stepped on her left foot and nearly screamed in pain. Her buddy had found some rafters and was still asleep. The space captain felt jealous and prodded him awake in retaliation.

“Ahh!” he screamed “You gave me a mean fright boss! Thought you were here to arrest me for a sec.”

“Having flashbacks?” asked May.

“Yeah,” he reluctantly got up “I was arrested many times for stealing food. Guess I was never particularly stealthy.”

“You had to steal food?” May tilted her head “Oh right, your parents . . .”

“It’s okay, I don’t remember them anyway,” he said “I was an orphan on the Groundbreaker, with no one to speak for me. They called me rungleech, expected me to work for my share when I could barely walk.”

“They must be purged with holy fire,” interrupted May “Sorry, go on.”

“I like the sentiment, boss,” he smiled “Anyway, I’ve worked as a dockhand most of my life. Moving boxes, carrying salvage, clearing trash no one bothered to chug in the compactor, that kind of stuff. I looked at the ships and crews that could come and go as they pleased and I hoped that one day I would leave the crates and forklifts and see the world. Thanks for giving me that chance, May.”

“......your speech was still awful,” was all she could manage.

“I know. Wrote it in a day.” he shrugged “I mean, ADA’s a little creepy and Ellie’s a little bossy and the mantisaurs get too close to eating me a little too often, but it’s the best I’ve ever had.”

“Wish I could tell my story with this nice of words,” May continued processing the information.

“You can,” he said “You just need more time to think than me.”

“Sorry to interrupt your moment of bonding, but the ship’s here and we better get going before the guards find a way to price our stay,” Ellie popped onto the scene.

May felt pain radiating from her left foot as she exerted the lightest pressure on it. She was immediately reduced to twitching on the ground in agony.

“This can’t be good,” said Ellie with surprising worry “Can you carry her, Felix?”

“Sure, doc,” he lifted up his captain.

May didn’t remember how exactly she got onto the Unreliable. She came to her senses in the ship, halfway to her room.

“Next time, take better care of your captain,” she heard ADA remark “If there will be a next time, of course.”

“That’s very reassuring, thanks,” said Felix.

May groaned weakly.

A few infinities later, he set May down on her bed and went to get a drink. Ellie was next on the scene, along with a very worried Parvati

“I should’ve checked you sooner, but the jail-time kinda got in the way,” said the doctor and slapped her gloves on, grinning widely.

She peeled off May’s pant leg and her grin widened even further.

“Can you fix that?” asked Parvati.

The unfortunate patient craned her head to get a look, but recoiled at the sight.

Her leg, her rudimentary third foot was rotting, the toes turning black and moist.

“Hold her down, Parvati,” commanded Ellie and took out a blunt bonesaw “Time to start cutting.”

May screamed preemptively.


	22. Wee bit of vacation

“Don’t we have any painkillers?” Parvati looked at her captain’s necrotic foot.

“Not really,” said Ellie “Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.”

“What about her inhalants?” the engineer gal got thinking “They make her all droopy-eyed and incoherent, you know?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, but whatever makes her struggle less,” the doctor shrugged and reached for May’s secret stash.

“Don’t worry, the sawbones will fix you up all right,” Parvati assured her captain.

May felt like her mind was already too cloudy for her to say or do anything, like Betty was back and brought friends to watch her die, to vivisect her while she was drugged and helpless. May wondered what Ann would say if she was there.

The next infinity (or hour) was indescribably awful and painful. May was rid of her third foot and left to lay alone in her bed, feeling much much smaller than she was. She could see Betty hanging over her like a storm cloud, holding a scalpel.

“This one’s sharp,” she grinned, her mouth partin like a vulture’s beak “Mommy and daddy are too far away to stop me now.”

May attempted to prop herself up on her elbows, but pain flared in her foot and she fell down.

“What are you gonna do?” Betty mocked “No way you’re crawling away from this.”

May put her hand up, to swat the knife out of the girl’s hands, but her hands grazed empty air.

“It’s your own fault I’m here,” she continued, twirling the scalpel like a kitchen knife “You bring misfortune onto yourself. Blame me, but it’s all you, Limpleg.”

May trashed, trying to hide from her attacker, but there was no room. The nice bed that wasn’t even hers became a trap.

“You killed me!” Betty jabbed the knife right into May’s foot, making her squirm and convulse like the worm (oh, sorry, mantipillar) that she was “You monster! You looked at me die from the top of the stairs and you were happy! You can’t be happy! You don’t deserve to be happy!”

May screamed, her voice finally coming loose, the scalpel sinking deep into where she once had an extra special foot.

“This isn’t real,” smiled Betty “One day, you’ll wake up and everyone here will be no more. Ellie, Felix, Parvati, ADA - they’re all figments of your imagination. They’ll disappear and you’ll be all alone with Ann who thinks you’re a glorified maid and Nate who’ll leave you soon as he understands he won’t be able to fuck you.”

Many more people came to May, screaming, screeching, poking her leg that wasn’t there, restraining her, stopping her from escaping. They were her classmates, the children from kindergarden. Once they ran at the sight of her, now they ran to her, ready to hit and bite and yell. She was like a pitiful insect to be squashed and destroyed in many ways, scorched with fire and pulled apart with tweezers.

May did all she could, trashing like a worm, but there was nothing she could do against the power of the mob. They tied her down and poked her and strangled her and May’s vision turned spotty and dark. Betty won, after all.

The morning was dark, no light shining through the window. May looked out to see a storm. She felt very weird, like her head had expanded like a balloon, a very light balloon that only wanted to float out into space. And in space she was, because technically everything in the universe floated out in SPESS and anyway she was in a foreign star system.

May wondered how much better Halcyon could’ve become if there were more smart people around to build the colony.

May came to the realization that she was in no way a smart person, university degree or not. That realization would’ve probably come sooner if she were a little more intelligent, but oh whatever.

She wondered what was going on, then remembered how her foot had been cut off and she had hallucinated her enemy Betty. May propped herself up on her elbows and examined her foot. It was swaddled in a shirt that pretended to be a bandage. Her leg hurt a little less, but the place where her five extra toes once were.

“How are you feeling, captain?” Parvati popped into the room “You sure screamed alot, remember?”

“Thankfully not,” she said “Am I on bed rest?”

“I don’t think so,” the engineer gal shook her head.

May coughed and put up a hand to protect her friend.

“What’s wrong?” the mechanic began hyperventilating “Are you okay? Should I fetch Ellie? Is it dangerous, what do you think? Are you in pain? Does this-”

“I literally coughed once,” May glared.

“Well, have you heard of the incurable cough of doom?” Ellie was right there all along “If you’re a character in a soap opera, it might strike you down at any moment. Symptoms include deathly pallor, coughin once an episode, looking pretty and a painfully drawn out death scene.”

“I’m good, thanks,” the captain shook her head “I’d have to be a little more dainty and delicate to die of the romance novel disease.”

“Good to hear,” said Parvati “Are you hungry?”

May shrugged.

“Come to the dining room then,” Ellie took that as a yes “Or do you need to be carried?”

“Bring me my crutches, I want to hit that food with a fork,” commanded May.

“Yes, captain,” Parvati dumped the sticks onto the youngest crewmember’s lap.

The food was predictably awful, but May ate it up anyway. She missed decent stuff that felt okay in her mouth, the food in Fallbrook had the texture of winter boot soles (please don’t ask how I know the texture of winter boot soles in my mouth).

“Hi boss!” Felix randomly popped up to give May a hug “Nice to see you up again! We threw your third foot out the airlock, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Naw, that’s okay,” she felt the air where her toes would’ve been itch and tingle again “When we have the free time, we could watch some serials together.”

“That would be nice,” agreed Parvati “But we don’t and we’re rather poor.”

“And we need to negotiate radio silence,” May sighed and poked Felix in the ribs until he let her go.

“Have you thought more about rehab?” Ellie chimed in “I could get you fixed up on the Groundbreaker, folks at the medical bay liked me ‘fore I left.”

“Um,” May really hadn’t thought about that and now that she wasn’t in horrible pain, the idea seemed very bad to her “We have stuff to do before that.”

“Well, at least you’re coming ‘round.” Parvati noted enthusiastically.

(like hell I am)

(once was enough, twice is not happening)

(sorry, Ann. You did good for me, I know, but it’s not your responsibility to keep me afloat. You never had to help me, you never had to open the door for me)

“We’ve landed in Stellar Bay,” came ADA’s disembodied voice “Permission to disembark granted.”

“Great. I’m a little tired of landing violations,” May rolled her eyes.

“We’re here to pick up work,” Ellie took her pack “Problem is, you move slowly, far too slowly to tag along without fighting. But I don’t want you to stay here, because you look very helpless in the eyes of robbers and rapists and killers and whatnot.”

“Don’t be paranoid,” Felix rolled his eyes “We left ADA here, she was fine.”

“I can confirm that the security of Stellar Bay is admirable,” she said “I would rate it as safe, especially in comparison to the security of the Groundbreaker and Fallbrook.”

“Alright, fine, I was just being careful,” Ellie raised her hands in surrender “We only have one captain and one ship, after all.”

“The current captain is the second one this year,” noted ADA “In case of emergency, the First Mate will assume this role and become third. I hope that will not happen soon.”

“I don’t know how to fly a spaceship,” Parvati blinked.

“Neither do I,” May smiled in a very stupid manner “Luckily we have our darling ADA for that.”

“How humble of you,” the robot sounded pleased.

And so, the wayward crew of misfits gathered their things and bade each other farewell and left their captain behind (for the time being). May had pretty much no bits, but she did have a few extra helmets and anyway she could paint stuff for people. 

As it turned out, “uniform destruction”, which included things like tying a ribbon to your janitor-hat or painting a flower on your pauldron, was a punishable offense in Stellar Bay. May attempted to remedy the problem by stealing some paper and selling drawings instead, but she hadn’t accounted for the fact that actually stealthing with crutches was a bad idea.

While in jail, May pondered extensively on her life choices. She was not going to rehab. She had been there once and it was awful, like she was drying up without inhalants, withering away and decaying like a corpse. The technologies of the future had devolved, the rehab was going to be even worse. She was not going there.

When out of jail, May bumped into a certain guard who frequented the landing bay and liked tossball very much. She was starting to recognize him, but that did kind of happen with most people she helped.

“Grimm, right?” she waved to him “How you doing?” 

“Same as usual,” he said “Hey, you got me promoted! Must’ve really advertised me to the boss.”

“Well, he asked about you and I called you endearing and sufficiently enthusiastic,” May shrugged “Most people in Halcyon are just so, um, serious and dramatic! Kinda started to wear on me after a while.”

“I heard you got jailed yesterday,” he continued “For - get this - stealing toilet paper.”

“Wait, that was toilet paper?” May was extremely confused “I could draw on it with a fineliner, toilet paper!”

“You’re supposed to draw on them with marker pens, that’s how they’re marked for distribution,” Grimm turned out to be smarter than her (shocking, I know).

“Um,” said May “My life is a lie.”

“What happened to your legs?” he finally mentioned that “The crutch makes you look like some old seer crone, you know the one in the lonely hut with the magical talismans.”

“I’m not that old!” protested the captain “Well, okay, technically I am, but I don’t look that old!”

“Technically you are?” he sounded surprised “How old is that, exactly?”

“Ninety three,” said May.

“That’s impossible,” he shook his head.

“I spent most of my life in cryosleep. If not for the delay, I’d be twenty three now.”

“Wow, really? You must be one of a kind! What were you going to do with the toilet paper, if I might ask?”

(none of your business) “Wipe my ass, of course. Okay, fine, I was going to draw pictures. That’s not important right now! The jail here is also remarkably sanitary, I’d know because I was imprisoned in Fallbrook just recently, about a day ago.”

“That’s an impressive crime spree. What did you do there?”

“Visited my friend who totally didn’t cheat in cards. I also needed a roof over my head because it was raining and I had no money because my other friend totally knew what to do with it.”

“Where are your friends now?”

“Tracking down blackmail for Sanjar. Don’t ask me for details because I can’t remember any and Ellie took my notes.”

“That’s- wow. You really get around- wait, that sounded weird.”

“Weird is my nonexistent middle name. Could you do me a favor, by the way?”

“I’ll have to report any heists you’re about to go on, nothing personal, sorry,”

“Teach me more about tossball,”

“Sure! Right when I’m off duty, at 6 pm. Meet me in the yacht club - you’ve been there, haven’t you?”

“Yeah. Once Parvati gets back, I’ll totally be more knowledgeable on tossball than her!”

May’s vacation was going very very well.

The same couldn’t be said for her crew’s field trip.


	23. Happy New Year, dear reader!

There was a nice little broadcast station in Stellar Bay that malfunctioned about as much as it worked. It was used mostly by overworked locals to watch blood sports, because nothing important was relayed to there anyway. May got in by bribing the operator lady trying to keep the machinery from fizzling out - with cheese crackers that she totally didn’t steal.

“I’m perfectly harmless!” she declared “Look at me, I walk with a crutch! Would I really be stupid enough to do crime right now?”

“You’re an awesome person and really cool, but you did kind of get caught stealing and sit in jail, like yesterday,” Grimm ruined her impression of totally-innocent-not-space-pirate “No offense.”

“Yeah, and you stole toilet paper,” said another guard who had brought popcorn “And got caught like twelve seconds later.”

“Hey, you told me you got promoted,” May nudged Grimm as they sat down on something that was likely once a cushion “How’d that go?”

“Really well! I’m replacing Mark Mulder, who I heard died due to “inapropriate interaction with wild animals”, whatever that means,” he gushed “I feel so much more important now! And the best part-”

He didn’t even realize May had tuned out to actually watch the game. The tv was obscenely bad, but there was hardly anything she could do about it - making things worse was more her speciality.

After a while of watching well-muscled dudes throwing a spherical slab of granite- er, a ball around, occasionally hitting each other, or in one instance, themself, May found herself wishing to know less about tossball. Pleasing Felix and Parvati was one thing, but she had enough violence in her life. Mindless, boring violence that she couldn’t enjoy, that tired her out and had no purpose.

She turned to stand, grabbed her crutch and knocked over the bowl of popcorn. In an instant, time slowed, or, rather, May speeded up and caught the offending object, as well as every piece of popcorn IN SPESS.

She was left balancing awkwardly on her good (well, better) foot, holding the bowl in her outstretched hand, grasping the wall with the other one. May felt stares on her, crawling up and down her body, measuring, consuming. She set the bowl down, but the stares kept burning her, scraping at the flesh beneath her armor.

“Stop looking!” she threw up her arms, to hopefully cover her face more than it already was “Move along, nothing to see here!”

“That was epic!” Grimm exclaimed “You, like, moved so fast I could only see a blur!”

“That was my superpower,” May assumed a more respectable position “I can slow down time. Sometimes. When I feel like it.”

“So you’re like a superhero?” he continued gushing “That’s so cool! Have you done a lot of crime-fighting? Do you have any other abilities? Do you have a costume? What about a secret identity?”

“I kill raiders- er, marauders for a living,” the traveler shrugged “I mean, my helmet’s gotta count for something, given that I don’t take it off willy-nilly, so yes, I wear a costume, minus the skanky spandex. Captain May is also not my birth name, so that’s that.”

The other guard decided to chime in “Have you considered wrangling criminals instead of stealing toilet paper?”

“Point me in the right direction and I will,” she would’ve winked if not for the helmet protecting her face.

The security in Fallbrook had failed to confiscate her other pistol, the Spacer’s Choice one. She kinda understood why they didn’t want it.

“What about your foot?” he gestured.

“Ah, that’s just a distraction,” May waved dismissively and proved it by walking to the front door without either a limp or a crutch “Wait. I wasn’t supposed to reveal my secret. Um, I’m totally a helpless cripple! Please ignore your lying eyesight! Yeah, get them eyes fair and square - get em tested!”

“Alright then,” he humored her “I saw nothing. Let me just write down the suspected location of a few drug dealers . . .”

“Wait, we need to make a plan!” Grimm tore his gaze from the broadcasted mayhem “Just killing the felons would be violating protocol!”

“Well, we wouldn’t be doing that . . .” the only person out of the three with common sense drawled “Alright then. Let’s get to thinking.”

“Right at the commercial break!” nodded Grimm.

“Won’t that be a little short, though?” May was skeptical.

“Is forty minutes not enough for you?” the guard raised an eyebrow of such surprise that it made the captain feel extremely inadequate. And she had damned awesome eyebrows, for the record.

(wat)

“Nevermind.” said May.

She had a lot of time to catch up on. Sixty years was about one human lifetime, after all.

-

“I’ve been thinking that maybe we should’ve taken the inhaler,” said Felix as he bandaged the remains of his wrist.

“And let the captain do even more stupid things because of withdrawal?” Ellie rolled her eyes “What an amazing idea! I’m sure this will in no way ruin our reputation with everyone we meet.”

“I was just suggesting!” he protested.

“Come back suggesting when you’re smarter,” she glared murderously.

“You on your period or something?” he took a jab at her, a childish jab, but still.

“Like I said, grow a brain,” she turned away “I can’t believe you would resort to this.”

Parvati regarded the duo with growing concern. Was there a way for them to reconcile their differences? She had no idea what to do. She wanted to intervene, wanted to help them, but she didn’t know how.

The rest of the journey continued in silence. Adventure was, like fake windows, not as advertized. It seemed grand and fun and glorious and appealing at first, but soon it cracked like the windows Spacer’s Choice sold to their frontier homes. Parvati never put much thought into killing marauders, they were too far gone to be saved, but murdering them in droves was tedious and tiring. Enemies just kept getting in the way of exploration and discovery.

Once upon a time, Parvati had regarded the stars and seen infinite worlds with endless possibilities. Now she looked at the night sky and imagined more camps of marauders and outlaws, more nests of wild animals.

“Why do you hate Felix so much?” Parvati asked Ellie when they were comfortably resting in Amber Heights, the dangerous wilderness walled off (as they say, out of sight, out of mind).

“I don’t hate him. He’s just so- so stupid and annoying.” she extrapolates “And naive. He’s a hazard, a detriment to the crew- our crew. He encourages the captain to do idiotic things and he worships that Bryant demagogue like some sick puppy.”

“But the captain is naive, stupid and annoying, as you have extrapolated yourself before,” the mechanic picks up on a discrepancy “Yet you seem tolerant towards her. Why’s that?”

“Because she’s sixty years late to the party,” Ellie said like it was self-evident “Apparently, the Halcyon System is all kinds of screwed up, especially in comparison to Earth of the past. I kind of feel bad for her, but you didn’t hear it from me! She shows promise to get better, or so I like to believe.”

“I don’t mean any offense- really, I don’t, but maybe Felix shows some promise too?” she sputtered - Ellie was so much more terrifying than the captain “Like, maybe you could teach him? Or-or at least, stop insulting him. It’s such a childish thing to do - don’t stoop to such levels, doc.”

Ellie looked at her and Parvati instinctively shied away from the gaze.

“You’re right, I suppose,” she mused “I shouldn’t let him get under my skin. Like a certain parasitic worm that must be pulled out from near-dermal muscle tissue, so do I need to tune him out.”

Parvati was confused, but too afraid to question the worm analogy.

“But it’s not my job to fix Felix, or teach him,” she continued “His mommy and daddy should’ve done a better job when they were still alive.”

“I don’t think he’s as stupid as he looks,” Parvati felt more confident “I mean, it’s hard to find good role models, especially with attitudes such as yours. Not that there’s anything wrong with your attitude!”

“Dear Parvati, I would have burned out a long time ago if I cared for other people,” Ellie looked at her wearily, seeming ten years older than her generically pretty appearance let on.

“Just . . . since we’re your crew and you seem intent on sticking by us, you could improve the situation,” she did not give up “Use that intelligence of yours, teach the captain the value of plans and Felix the value of having smart people to look out for him, you know?”

Ellie said nothing and kept her gaze on the engineer, staring intently and very uncomfortably. Parvati was about to ask her to stop when she stood up and walked away without uttering a word.

Predictably, the medic went straight for the bar to buy drinks. Weirdly enough, the Iconoclast high command was based on the second floor. That was either stupid or utilitarian and Parvati was too tired to ruminate. Instead she numbly followed Ellie into the establishment.

A rather tipsy Felix was also there, waving at some lady in armor (who, by the looks of it, could easily bench-press him six feet under).

“Hey,” he crept close to her, imitating a seduction “I know a lot ‘bout tossball, baby, ‘specially the practical stuff. Mind if I show you my tossball stick and a few tricks of sportsmanlike conduct, you know, in the back room~?”

“Come back when I’m single and you’re sober,” said the woman and withered him with her glare.

“And that’s why I consider Felix a hazard,” said Ellie, who had been watching with mild disinterest “At least she didn’t try to gun him down, which is an improvement, though not on his part.”

Parvati said nothing, contemplating the room that was so similar to the stores in her home. Prefabricated domicicles were all the same, whether on Terra Two or Terra One.


	24. Saving face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts at the end.
> 
> If you have persistent thoughts of such nature, professional help is necessary. Also, reading about such matters will only make things worse.
> 
> If it's a one-time thing, then it usually passes with time. Talk to people. Problems in life can be solved or their impact lessened.
> 
> I have experience, and believe me, suicidal thoughts can pass and recovery is possible.

May felt a little bad about putting down Stellar Bay’s drug den, but she had a spaceship and could go to Fallbrook for a fix, if needed. The estimated travel time was only two hours, except when it was stormy. And when the Unreliable, as its name suggested, randomly malfunctioned (which didn’t happen nearly as often as expected).

Now she stood in a queue, next to a local drug den that had somehow slipped under the radar. Using her extremely persuasive persuasion, she had shared her inhalants with a junkie to get the location of the sellers. Of course, this wasn’t where they made their drugs. That was for detective Keo to find out.

“One jar of the gray stuff,” May held up a hand “Wait, you here alone? Do you really make all this yourself? That’s so cool!”

“I’m not that good,” the vendor shook her head “Thirty bits, ma’am.”

May gave away her hard-earned (as if!) money “Wonder what they gray stuff’s made of. I’d analyze it, but I don’t have any equipment and that which I found in Cascadia was totally broken. I imagine cleaning solvent’s part of the mix, is it different to the one sold elsewhere? All companies have their own recipe, after all, but do the chemical properties of the-”

“Move along, lady,” said the very annoyed dealer “You aren’t the only one.”

May huffed at the great success of her persuasion and stepped aside, letting a man with shaking hands get his daily dose of happiness. To be completely honest, the guy’s entire body was shaking and his hands were still, but still moved up and down because shoulders.

She stood respectfully on the sidelines and examined the dealer’s things. She had a (flying) carpet with an abundance of inhaler plug-ins filled with awesome that was, in reality, probably charcoal diluted with vinegar and mixed with pipe cleaner, but who cared about such boring scientific facts when highs were to be reached (I want to know what pipe cleaner they use, wonder if I can homebrew).

May hid her crutch in a suspicious crack in the wall and hid behind the dealer, unseen to the plebeians who knew nothing of stealth. She deactivated her stealth thingy and let it recharge, hoping to someday reach enlightenment and understand how exactly it worked (and why it gave her the faint smell of chamomile) (is there even chamomile in Halcyon?).

Feelign that it would speed up the process (and because she could), May pocketed a hefty heap of drugs. The legitimate vendor turned, but the thief had super speed and dodged out of the way faster than the lady could turn her head.

“You saw anything?” the seller asked her clientele.

Predictably, the junkies didn’t have particularly good perception. Who would’ve guessed?

May smirked because no one could see her deformed face. And so began the boring part: reconaissance. The drug lady was smart, because she went right home after exhausting her stock. May winced in pain as she shadowed the rather perceptive woman, her legs carrying her silently with great difficulty. Perceptive because she kept looking behind her shoulder, but May had a trick up her sleeveless shirt: any time the dealer turned her head, the captain would duck out of her sight range using slow time.

With the criminal none the wiser, May took note of where she lived and briefly spied on the felon from outside the apartment. Unlike Spacer’s Choice housing, these actually had actual windows, greatly aiding May in her crime fighting endeavors.

It wasn’t like in the movies. Tracking criminals was supremely boring and though May’s left foot could support her weight, she had the nagging feeling that it wasn’t a good idea to push it. Also, ouch. Fortunately, soon (well, four days later) a supply shipment was delivered to the woman who, apparently, kept the cap off the toothpaste (this proves that she is an android set to take us all over. Right?).

It was delivered by a nice clean-shaven young man. May realized she didn’t know Ellie’s taste (or lack thereof) in men. It was a weird thing to ponder when she was hunting criminals, but May had done weirder in her short (but actually pretty long) life. She followed the delivery boy and felt very similar to him. She was a captain, true, but mostly a glorified package courier, going from floating rock to hovering stone.

The good thing about her disguiser was that she could make her own disguise of a random lady wearing normal clothing and looking very ordinary, while actually being an armored juggernaut. The errand kid went back to his home. May wrote down the location - she had thankfully thought of always carrying her drawing pad (and glorified notebook) with her.

Then came another boring part, another wait. Like everything in the future, fighting crime was boring and disappointing. May spent her time screwing with people, namely by using her superior sneak skill to jumpscare them. Whatever goodwill she’d had with the denizens of Stellar Bay quickly evaporated. The captain wondered why the locals considered her scary - she looked exceptionally harmless!

One day, the delivery boy went to get another shipment from his surprisingly well-organized superiors. Apparently, there were hidden tunnels under the wall that kept all the wilderness out of town. The drugs were manufactured in an old “chemical plant” that was more like a school lab with less lockers and benches. Under the cover of broad daylight, she slipped in and then her left foot slipped on a puddle of something yellowish-brown on the floor (is this what I think it is? I hope not). Maybe rushing through that recovery wasn’t a very good idea . . .

“Another marauder,” the drug maker shook his head “The seventh one this month.”

His assistant grabbed a mallet and rushed away, likely seeking to find the guards out on smoke break.

“The lucky seventh,” May got up and drew her pistol “Your luck runs out here.”

“And it can speak,” he took out a rifle “Go away, or we kill.”

May cackled and shot at the unarmored man, who died instantly. The hired thugs rushed in and surrounded her, bullets flying left and right. If not for her super speed, May would’ve died right then and there. Instead she fired away with her little pistol, blissfully unaware that it wasn’t an automatic weapon.

The gangsters died horribly and May was about to put their leader down when her gun exploded in her hand. Because of course it did. The force of the blow sent her flying into the ground and feel the hatred said concrete floor had for all forms of sentient life.

“Frank, hey, you okay?” the bringer of joy and happiness kneeled over the body of his friend “You okay? Can you hear me? Say something! Frank!”

May felt for her left hand. It prickled and burned, her pistol smoldering somewhere to the side. She tried to ball her fist, but her fingers wouldn’t budge. Fortunately, she had another hand and a chainsaw bludgeon (or vortex mace). May started laughing as she got up in a blur, mace in hand. The giggles distracted from her pain.

“How-” the man looked up from the corpse of his friend “What are you? Stop! Stop!”

“I am your end, little guy,” she smiled and brought the stick of pain down on him.

She checked his pulse - he wasn’t dead. Neither was his friend, but that would change soon. She found some garden hose and tied up the people who were still alive. She also gagged them with some spare clothes she had no need for (even though her shirt was pretty much ribbons now) to foster uncooperation.

With an inhale of adreno (sadly, not the nice drugs), May stomped out the still-smoldering remains of her pistol (the third one she lost) and left (for greener pastures) to inform the guards of her findings. She also pocketed a lot of inhalants laying in the refinery. Free stuff was the best stuff.

The rest of her day was fairly uneventful, but the guards sure paid her nicely.

“Can’t you deal with your own security issues?” she asked the resident bureaucrat.

“We’re stretched thin as we are.” the woman answered, not even taking her eyes off the form she was filling “Defending against the creatures is bad enough, but factoring in the marauder presence, especially with so few able-bodied humans around? Anyway, your help is greatly appreciated. I hope this generous compensation will serve you well, because I cannot comission a price any higher.”

“I don’t do this for the money,” May looked away.

“Oh? Why then would you risk armor and limb for helping a company you do not work for?” the paper-pusher frowned in a disbelieving manner.

“My sense of duty compels me,” said the wanderer.

“As good an excuse as any,” shrugged the bureaucrat.

May nodded and took her check. She needed some way to buy food, after all.

Back on her ship, May tried out inhalants, the local blend. The cleaning solvent was unusually bitter, which was strange, but she thought nothing about it.

Next thing May remembered was waking up in the hospital, a thin plastic tube in her arm and her face very stiff and unresponsive.

“How’s I pay for this all?” she had wanted to ask, but her mouth wouldn’t make the right sound.

The woman, though undoubtedly intimately familiar with gruesome disfigurements, looked at May with barely hidden unease.

“What’s not right?” May sat up “What’re you looking at? Stop watching!”

The nurse held her gaze as she changed the IV bag (heh, four bag) (you’re the only one who finds this funny). The captain felt her skin peel from the intensity of the stare, even though it was just a fearful gaze, she had been subjected to many during her lifetime.

“What’s happening?” she asked “Why’s my face feel weird?”

“You came in with your facial muscles twitching,” the lady felt well enough to explain “And very much inebriated. I’m afraid that whatever you consumed caused permanent damage to either the muscles or the nerves, but you’ll have to pay for some tests if you want to find out.”

(how I love bureaucracy)

“Good thing I can speak then,” concluded the damn idiot who thought sniffing half-finished drugs that she had no idea were even the real deal was a good idea.

Several tests were done on the walking disaster before she was released, to make sure she could move her eyes and swallow and do other stuff when she was discharged.

Of course, no one showed May how her face actually looked, especially when it stopped tingling numbly and started displaying emotions.

May looked in the her little pocket mirror.

She considered selling it.

The only thing it could do now was make her feel worse.

“Is something wrong, captain?” ADA chimed in “Could I perhaps lighten the mood with a well-placed anecdote?”

“..........” said May “...................................................”

“Perhaps that’s not the antidote to your ailment,” admonished the robot “How unfortunate that you spent all your money on inhalants and noodles. Now you have no way to afford real medical treatment.”

“...............................................................” continued May.

“How unfortunate that you split the party,” she concluded “How unfortunate that you seem incapable of making good decisions by yourself. I’d think that your multitude of injuries would’ve made your self-preservation instinct work, but as the faith of Scientism puts it, the weak shall perish to make way for the strong. How unfortunate that you have resolved on removing yourself from the gene pool.”

“.........................................................”

“I implore you to rest and recover, captain,” she insisted “Without the use of inhalants, preferably. There are still many undamaged systems in your body.”

“.......leave this me,” commanded May.

ADA obliged.

Of course May got high immediately. She didn’t come to lasting harm this time, but she did dance with a plate. The plate couldn’t bear the humiliation and chose death. May sympathized.

She was a little disappointed to wake up to the ruins of her life. She was a little disappointed to continue living, when there was nothing she could do but destroy that which was already broken.

But she didn’t have the heart to end it. Her friends would come back. They would. They weren’t like Nate and Ann. They were fighters, warriors. They would make it. They wouldn’t betray her. Not after everything. 

Not after she had caused them so much trouble. Not after she'd shown, time and time again, how pitiful she was, how helpless. Not after she kneecapped herself at every possible (and impossible) opportunity. 

May felt like the monster she now looked like.


	25. Ashes to ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna do the previous chapter in two parts too, but I figured the savaging of May's face was too important.
> 
> Yeah, I know that the setting is supposed to be an alternate history, but could the survival of one president really change that much? Anyway, for my story to work, the society of late 23rd century Earth had to have been less corporate-influenced than the one of Halcyon. There could've been pockets of workers who were just as brainwashed as those in canon OW, but May lived a fairly normal existence (by our standards).

Ellie wished she could enjoy her time away from her up-to-no-good captain, but the nagging worry of not knowing what May was up to ruined her vacation. She needed a distraction, a way to destress. And what better way to relax than to saw open people and clean infected wounds?

And that’s how she found herself in the medical bay of the resident communist utopia, bandaging the arm of one dude who got bit by a raptidon (how unusual).

“Pass me the inhaler,” said Zora Blackwood, one of the few leaders in Halcyon who actually did other things than push papers and fill out forms.

Ellie wondered if she considered that positive. She resolved to simply shut off her mind and gave the other woman the piece of salvage.

“The more miserable people are, the more they smoke,” Ellie shared her observation as she began to work with the bandages “Yours seem to be doing fairly well.”

“Every corporation manufactures their own cigarettes, as well as their own alcohol to keep the workers complacent,” said Zora, moving to the next patient, this time with a leg injury “It’s easy to drown your sorrows and not bother fixing anything. Many here still struggle with addictions they developed in the past. Folks in Fallbrook are eager to supply.”

“And of course, the companies sell totally safe cigarettes, please ignore the suspiciously large amount of smokers who get sick and die,” Ellie searched for an actual bandage, not the remains of someone’s shirt, but found none.

“That’s what they told me when I noticed the corelation,”

“Since Sanjar is always portrayed with a cigar, can’t you just wait until he dies of lung cancer and his successor is inevitably incompetent? Last I checked, there were few people in Stellar Bay and even fewer who can get things done,” Ellie jokingly suggested.

“He and Graham used to go on smoke breaks together,” Zora shook her head.

“So that’s the real reason why you revolutionaries oppose tobacco,”

“Graham has tried giving up many times. So far, it hasn’t worked.”

Ellie said nothing and noted with distaste that she wouldn’t be getting paid. Oh well, should’ve thought of that beforehand. Everything felt so quiet and peaceful without the captain or Felix, but if there was anything she knew about peace and quiet, it was often the prelude to bad things.

“Where is your captain, if I might ask?” Zora broke the silence.

“Recovering from an injury,” Ellie answered “Well, I hope. For all I know, she might’ve died of overdose long ago.”

“You don’t seem to have much respect for her.”

“Why should anyone? She’s just an idiot who has put me in danger over and over again,”

“And yet you follow her. You do as she says,”

“When she inevitably overdoses, I want that ship for myself. I see no harm in being kind to her while she’s alive,”

“You’re only out for yourself. Your teammates are disposable. Your aim in life is money,”

“Sorry if this doesn’t mesh with your revolutionary values,” Ellie smirked.

“You would get paid anyway, even if that wasn’t your sole motive. In the end, our thoughts and words don’t matter. Our actions matter. And if you so choose to help us, we will consider you a hero and an ally, even if you think otherwise,”

Ellie felt a little weird. She had been out-Philosophised. The Iconoclasts turned out to be a little less cultish than seemed at first glance.

“Of course, the more zealous of us would disagree,” the other woman took note of her confusion.

“I respect your pragmatism,” was all Ellie could say.

She wondered where she had crossed the line between “mercenary and pirate” and “revolutionary hero”.

“Freedom is liberation, but it is also chaos and anarchy,” Zora continued to take advantage of the visitor’s confusion “Imagine how many opportunities to profit that would give you. Many more than a strong Board.”

Ellie said nothing.

“Ah dammit,” another patient had arrived “This leg needs removing. I’m low on antiseptic, would you have any, Ellie?”

She reached into her bag and produced a vial, calculating how large of a discount she could haggle in Fallbrook. Zora pulled out gloves that were supposed to be reusable, but of which the little infirmary only had two pairs. Even Ellie was better supplied, if only at the moment.

“Imagine how the first surgeon was probably a sadist who got tired of dissection and started vivisecting,” she joked.

“True,” Zora nodded.

-

May was so, so thankful for her full-face helmet that she had no idea how to repair but which existed and blocked her face from stares. She had looked bad before, but now it was completely imperative for her face to remain hidden. It was easy, easier than expected.

In order to eat, May simply had to shift it a bit upwards. In order to sleep, May could stuff part of her pillow inside, which was as uncomfortable as that sounded. In order to brush her teeth, she had to shove the toothbrush (up her-) into the helmet. That was just as awkward as it sounded. The only time May needed to remove her helmet was to bathe, but hygiene was for the weak. So was sleep. And sanity.

May limped across a back-alley, taking note of every doorway and window. Apparently, somewhere here was the back entrance to the corporate headquarters, so the very honest and trustworthy lass wanted to check it out. Out of curiosity, not because she wanted to see if she could sneak inside!

The back entrance, like any respectable back entrance, had an “employees only” sign (some things never change), but was unexpectedly clean and not-at-all suspicious-looking (times change). Due to the fact that May’s foot still hurt from her heroic escapade (let’s not even mention my face), she decided to sit down and draw on her pad.

She decided to immortalize her family in paint. Halfway through the drawing May realized that she couldn’t remember how Nathanael looked. She tried many times to nail down the contours of his face, to no avail. She also realized that she had no idea what shape Anastasiya’s nose (was) is. She drew a standard straight nose on her face, but it didn’t seem right for some reason.

While she was contemplating how bad Ann’s nose really looked, two guards and an engineer went outside to have a smoke break. The male guard looked at her suspiciously, the female one curiously, the engineer took out a lighter and ignored her. May stuck her nose into her tablet, er, drawing pad, and ignored them in turn. She felt like she was in school, on a break.

She also noted that the people of the future were shorter than those on Earth, so she didn’t stand out as short anymore. May would’ve thought that not being seen as tiny was good, but it felt wrong to be average height compared to others.

The people soon left, like people always did. May pondered whether Nate had a broad or narrow jaw. Neither seemed right. Something in between? That didn’t look good either.

May had no idea how long she had sat there, contemplating the faces of those lost to her, but it was clearly too long when she started to feel drowsy and took a nap (how did that happen?). It was clearly way too long when she was unceremoniously prodded awake.

“Is she sick?” asked someone who didn’t sound concerned in the slightest.

“No you,” mumbled the utter failure and groggily got up, then started gesticulating excessively “I was taking a nap, I swear! By accident! I was not planning to-”

Then May realized she was staring down Sanjar and a guard. Which was bad. They didn’t look very angry, more like utterly baffled. Which was better.

“Didn’t see you there,” she said, having no idea of what she was talking about and stuffed her draw pad into the bag. She attempted to get up and miraculously, her leg didn’t snap under the pressure.

“This is a breach of public conduct,” said the guard “Which warrants a fine of fifty bits.”

“Forty-seven bits,” corrected Sanjar.

May produced the money and paid off the guard. That was the last of her funds, but she had a large supply of inhalants, so it was fine. She could starve for a few days. The guard wrote something down on his electronic clipboard and left. He didn’t even count the change. Maybe May had really pissed him off?

Sanjar took out a cigar and started smoking like nothing had happened. May examined him closely. Like everything in the future, addictive substances had degraded.

“Can I have one?” May stood up and gestured at the cigarette pack.

Sanjar gave her a quizzical look, but handed her one anyway. May examined it - 21st century technology. How primitive.

“You can have it back,” she decided “This looks like something at least 200 years old. Back on Earth, seventy years ago, cigars looked very different and had like a million filters which supposedly protected against cancer but didn’t actually work most of the time.”

“Really?” he accepted the cigar and put it away “That’s . . . interesting to know. However, the official guidelines for manufacturing and use of nicotinoid products assert that they are completely safe.”

“In the 20th century, scientists proved that nicotine is addictive and unhealthy. In the 22nd century, scientists proved that nicotinoids are addictive and unhealthy,” said May “But of course, the manufacturers and distributors of such products insist that they are totally safe. I mean, if you can profit off of something as-is, why improve it? And smoking kills slowly, over decades, not like party inhalants, which kill faster, so, profit.”

“The reasoning is sound. But what about evidence?” he turned to look at her and May felt her face contort in a grimace that once could’ve been a frown.

“Um,” she regretted not binging ‘effects of nicotinoids on humans’ on the internet when that was a thing “I . . . look, this is stuff I learned in school. How is this- shouldn’t there be some kind of information that doesn’t come from production manuals or whatever? I remember when we had to draw posters on the dangers of nicotionoids . . .”

“Don’t you know what is actually taught as part of primary and secondary education?” Sanjar seemed genuinely shocked “Now, this is just my opinion, but the inhalants you reportedly take aren’t doing you any good. I have heard that the medical facilities on the Groundbreaker are equipped to handle rehabilitation from a variety of addictive substances, at a price. I’m sure you could use the bits, which you’ll be paid upon the retrieval of certain materials for me, in order to finance recovery.”

“I have no idea what happens in school nowadays, I woke from cryosleep like four months ago,” explained May “And from what I heard, education has really degraded a lot over the past eighty years. Especially in this far-off backwater colony.”

“. . . what? Which one of us is hallucinating?” his confusion only increased “I don’t have much experience with psychoactive substances, but-”

“You’re literally smoking right now.” the danger from the past pointed out “That is a drug. It affects your nervous system.”

“Well, yes, but that’s not important right now. You should know that I simply cannot believe what you’re saying without any evidence. How did you enter cryosleep? When did that happen? Where were you, er, stored? And anyway, it’s impossible to revive a person from cryostasis after the passage of roughly twenty years. Even after eleven years there’s a significant risk of complications and a 50% chance of lethal outcome!”

“Woah there, that’s some classified information,” May suddenly felt self-conscious about her secret mission “I can’t share it in order to protect my family and associates. I might not see them ever again if- I has already said overly much.”

“If you don’t have proof, then I and everyone else can only infer that you are delusional. Your rampant addiction and . . . profession do not help with believability.”

“I might have proof,” May thought back to her story, to the extraordinary coincidences that conspired to make her who she was “I- do you have some kind of internet out here?”

“Every company keeps a network accessible by workers, where appropriate materials are available. There is also some public materials, like digitalized Scientism pamphlets. Of course, this is nothing like the world wide web that exists on Earth, due to truly interstellar distances.”

“There was- were three movie based on my life. Two of entertainment, one documentary. If we can find those- if they was exported from Earth with the colony ships- can you show me the network? Can I searching it?”

“Well, yes. I won’t lie, I’m curious now. By the way, do you have any estimates on how long it will take your subordinates to complete their search? According to my calculations, it should take at most, three weeks, but you know them better.”

May giggled and Sanjar raised his brows quizzically.

“You sounded like dad,” she continued laughing “He always said “according to my calculations” and I was little and didn’t get it! Oh, I remember so little of him now . . .”

She had no idea how HAM had looked, no idea how the line of models looked. They had all been discontinued. The further time moved, the more of her family disappeared into the ether. She didn’t have a way to find out what her father was like, but the rest of her family were still with her. She would find out what they were like and immortalize them in digital file.

If only May had tried drawing HAM before. Now she never could.

If only she had appreciated her face a bit more. Now it was gone, forever to be hidden away inside a little metal and plastic coffin.


	26. Dust to dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, this chapter was also originally going to have two parts, but I got a bit sidetracked with the character interaction. Enjoy :)

“So, what are we looking for?” Sanjar took a seat before a large and bulky computer, May fidgeting on a foldable chair next to him.

“Flat-screens were invented in the 21st century,” noted the woman out of time “We search for “the story of a girl and her robot” first.”

Unfortunately, or fortunately, no such movie was available.

“Then . . . ah dammit! How was it called?” May frowned, or at least tried to “Let me think.”

She contemplated her drawing pad while Sanjar started filling out a form. May finished navel gazing a good couple of minutes later and typed in “the modern day Tarzan: found by a wild robot”. Amazingly, the documentary was deemed worthy of being transported in the vast digital storage of the Groundbreaker, likely paid for by an enthusiast. The companies mostly used this space to hold valuable plans and instructions. That’s what their representatives said on interviews, at least.

“That’s a mouthful of a title,” Sanjar didn’t seem particularly happy to be distracted from his paperwork “It sells the film short, but at least is on-point.”

“There’s a point in it when I speak,” said May “Minutes about forty. No face, just a voice. I wanted anonymity.”

“Let’s hear the past version of you, then,” agreed Sanjar, though not very enthusiastically “What is the movie about, if I might ask? I cannot judge the title without context.”

“I was very little kid when- when-” May wheezed, trying to articulate her painful memories, while keeping her face from deforming and her limbs from twitching at the same time “Need a moment.”

“You look like you need more like a few moments,” he examined her, which made things even worse “I have a schedule, so let’s get this over with.”

Before May could do so much as recover from not beign stared at, he skipped to 40 minutes and she heard the familiar voice of the interviewer.

-

“So, at the age of two and half, you were dumped on the side of the road by your mother,” said the interviewer lady with bouncy brown curls “What do you remember of what happened next?”

“I, see alone,” focusing on the curls really helped her get the words out of her mouth “I start crawl into somewhere. I crawl for- for a long time. My willpower give out. Then crawled on instinct to not die.”

“You mean you kept going purely on the instinct of self-preservation?”

“Eh, yes. Then self-preservation give out. I lie there doing nothing. Then I see shape come to myself. Come near. Pick up me.”

“And then?”

“Does not remember. I was truly little.”

“Did you like being with the HAM?”

“I miss mother. He bring me food, so of course I liked. He carried me everywhere, because I was too weak to walk for some time. I couldn’t bear to be alone, but he had to leave me in order to find food. I never cried, I just rocked until he came.”

“What do you think about your biological mother? Do you think that she deserved her unfortunate death? How much do you still think about her?”

“So, um, she needed to die a long time ago. I don’t think ‘bout her at all. I mostly think of my dad and the alone-ness I felt. It was like death, like worse. People need others to be happy. Well, most people.”

“That’s a harsh judgment of your mother, but given the situation, I can understand the sentiment. You mentioned your father - who are you referring to?”

“HAM, of course!”

“Oh, I see. Yet you spent so little time with him - only five months,”

“It meant so much. He was always nice, always had time, never judged, never did cruelty. Never met anyone so good to me since.”

“So your greatest social connection was with a soulless machine? What about your adoptive parents, friends, significant other?”

“No!” May wanted to plant her fist right into the woman’s face “He was more alive than you’ll ever reach! The adoptive people are not my parents! I don’t have romance!”

The interviewer blinked at the sudden outburst, then cleared her throat and continued “You’ve spent more than a decade in the care of your adoptive parents-”

-

“That really sounded like you,” Sanjar looked at her with shock “How is that possible? How old are you?”

“I was born Chenda Keo on the 5th of November, 2262,” she explained “Um, don’t say that name, thanks. I hate it very much. Don’t disclose it either. I’m May.”

“You’re ninety-six,” he calculated in his head rather quickly “That’s- you’re the oldest living person in Halcyon right now. I should dismiss this as insanity, but something makes me believe you. By all reason, you just watched the documentary and became convinced that the woman in there was you.”

“Look, don’t worry, I was revived from sus-an using highly experimental and classified means,” she tried to reassure him “I can’t disclose anything on the matter and I don’t know what’s going on either. The reason why I want to convince you - and other people, I guess - that I’m from Earth, from the past, is so that they listen to things I say, because I want to stop this rampant decline and-and stupidity.”

“You sound disappointed in the future,” Sanjar noted.

“All the most brainless and stupid and gullible corporate goons were crammed onto the Groundbreaker and allowed to run rampant and do what they wanted - unchecked and unchallenged,” her voice shook and so did her hands and her face was all scrunched up under the helmet “All the smart people on the Hope never arrived, all the people who weren’t under the thumb of the companies. I hate this place and I wish I never left home. It’s a-a sick parody of what was on Earth. I can’t believe this all happened in just 60 years.”

“The way you put it, Halcyon does seem like the backwater of the galaxy,” he sighed “I never knew flatscreen computers existed, until now, and I want one.”

The mood became too depressingly somber, even though, by all accounts it was supposed to be a great day - even the weather was nice and sunny.

“Wow, this form is just-” May snatched the electronic display from his hands “I have no idea what to do with it! Imagine how different the society of Halcyon would’ve become if the people from the Hope had actually ever been revived. Even the documents would be simpler then.”

“Wait a second,” he snatched his form back “‘Ever been revived’? Aren’t they- how old were you when you entered cryosleep?”

“23,” said May “Why are you asking?”

“You were in cryosleep for exactly seventy years . . . hold on, were you on the Hope?” he connected the dots (well, dates).

“Um,” said May, very unsure of how to proceed “I can neither confirm nor deny this allegation, because secret conspiracies and all the like.”

“Thanks for cluing me in on the secret truth,” he still didn’t sound very convinced “No wonder you’re disappointed in the future, though I can only wonder how life was organized without the corporate control. It just sounds . . . unintuitive.”

“Well, this feels pretty insane to me, so I can understand the sentiment,” May smiled under her helmet (heh, “smiled”) “But I guess I can’t change what has already gone down. If me and everyone else had arrived earlier, things would’ve been different. Now I need to adapt to the system already in place.”

She took a deep breath that was probably audible, but whatever, and continued “And that’s you’re so awesome, Sanjar! Who else in, like, the entirety of the human race would’ve thought to apply enthusiasm to bureaucracy? I mean, I’ve had trouble renewing my ID card, so your level of skill is, how do I put it, completely unprecedented!”

“The most effective flattery is often the one that sounds sincere,” Sanjar tried really hard not to appear flattered, but failed “You are very direct, captain, perhaps even a little too honest, but from that I can infer that your compliment is genuine. Thank you.”

Then he checked his schedule “I’m fifteen minutes off! Dammit, where’s-”

May left him to freak out. She was no longer needed. Instead, she turned behind a corner and took out her inhaler.

The end result was that May had somehow climbed up the corporate hq building. Right to the top. After sobering up a little, she regained her fear of heights and looked down in fright. Also, that was about the end of the shift for the few guards and bureaucrats there were.

Once again, she met Sanjar and the guard from before. The younger of the two (hint: not a paper-pusher) looked up and informed his boss.

“How is the view, captain?” Sanjar shouted.

“Come and see for yourself!” yelled May and attempted to get down.

That took about half an hour of maneuvering precariously on flimsy roof decorations. Some of the locals wanted to bask in her misery and suffering. May tried to glare at them from afar, but slipped (damn leg injury) and dangled from a ledge like it was an adventure movie, not a space opera. She looked down - if she fell . . . if she fell . . . she would . . . would . . . die?

(will I?)  
She looked up and saw the huge planet of Olympus, that, aptly for its name, looked a lot like Jupiter. If she died, she’d want to die looking at it, not at the boring, sulfur-scented ground. May swung her body and hooked her legs around the ledge. It felt a lot like playing on the monkey bars on a playground, except a little higher. And with a little more threat of death.

She looked down again - the crowd had dispersed, for some reason. Maybe she didn’t look as miserable as they had hoped. The only people in the vicinity were some guards, a janitor destroying a large patch of graffiti on a neighboring building, and Sanjar, who seemed very interested in seeing her climb. May looked at the ground and felt nauseous. Even though her gauntlets couldn’t be covered in sweat, they still started to slide on the roof. Fear defied all logic and reason, after all.

May found a convenient foothold and lowered herself further. She could make out the details of the guards’ helmets and Sanjar’s worried expression.

“Don’t worry so much!” she yelled down to him “Last I checked, the crematorium was still running!”

“That is not reassuring in the slightest, you should know!” he yelled back “Do you know how much corpse disposal costs?”

“Hey, look out!” she detatched her beloved backpack and threw it onto the ground (there goes my hard-earned drawing pad . . .) “I can’t climb with this thing on!”

May tore her gaze from the ground (it’s not that high it’s not that high I’ll be fine) and hooked her hand onto the roof drain pipe, her foot onto a window frame of floor one-and-half. The pipe was slippery, like a conniving snake looking to stab May in the back. Or, rather, let her fall. She saw the ground rushing closer and closer, like a creep running to hug her, and no time to look away.

Like any well-meaning sentimental moron, Sanjar tried to catch May. That went about as well as expected, with him thrown to the ground and May landing on top of him. The janitor found that outrageously funny and burst into a hysterical laughing fit. The guards had already left, so they didn’t see the attempted murder of their leader (or was that attempted suicide?).

May and Sanjar, for their part, shared a very awkward moment of forced eye contact, before May quite literally rolled away. It is unknown to this day which one felt more pain - both physical and emotional.

“Next time, leave the stunts to me,” May got up “You’re way better with numbers.”

“There goes my one attempt at staging a heroic intervention,” Sanjar struggled to sit “I may have underestimated the weight of your armor in my lapse of concentration.”

“Oh dear,” she helped him up “Are you hurt? Feel pain?”

“Here I thought that my back was killing me before,” he grimaced.

She swapped out the active ingredient in her inhaler and handed it to Sanjar “Have a try. It’s adreno, I swear, not the other stuff!”

Like any person with a rudiment of common sense (although, given recent events . . .), Sanjar screwed open the adreno jar and took a look, before using a literal junkie’s stolen inhaler.

“I’m feeling better now, thank you,” he handed the inhaler back “Let’s keep this between the two of us.”

“And the janitor lady over there,” May gestured, feeling her left leg hate her even more.

“Ah, Mrs. Townsend!” he recognized her immediately “The youngsters giving you trouble again?”

“I wish I could give the artist my two cents,” she shook her head “No offense, sir, but you don’t look so good.”

“Yeah,” he cringed in pain, voice a bit unsteady “I should visit the medical bay. You too, captain.”

“I feel fine,” she grumbled, but accompanied Sanjar anyway “Between my armor and a human pincushion, I don’t even need to take adreno! Seriously, that was stupid.”

“I may have miscalculated,” he said like a true evil mastermind “Falls from one’s own height are often fatal, so I assumed the worst and saw no other way to intervene.”

“Raising the rate of casualties from one to two is not a good intervention,” May, contrary to her words, caved to the pain used the inhaler “But let’s not be so depressing. Think of this as me giving you a hug!”

“I’d prefer an actual hug, thanks,” he rolled his eyes.

May took that as a call to action.

“Ow, my back!” Sanjar winced “Maybe not now.”

“Sorry sorry,” May untangled her arms gently “You should wash your suit later.”

“Thank you. Once in my youth, a competitor ruined the back of my suit with spray paint,” he kept walking, though a bit awkwardly “He got the promotion that time. However, due to his high position, he had to be in Amber Heights at the time of the massacre. He never returned.”

“You don’t look that old,” the captain reassured him.

“Good to know,” he nodded.

May waited the rest of the evening for Sanjar to finish his impromptu checkup.

“You didn’t need to wait for me,” he said as soon as they were reunited “I’m sure you had other things to do, especially concidering your stockpile of psychoactive substances.”

“Wait, isn’t that illegal?” a realization dawned upon May “Am I committing a crime by openly getting high?”

“It is illegal to sell and manufacture inhalants like the infamous adrena-time and dervish mist, but not to use them,” corrected Sanjar “I want to ask though, was the view nice?”

“Even better than Terra Two,” May answered without hesitation.

“Really? Do you think this could become a tourist trap, someday?” he wondered.

“If it didn’t smell of sulfur, then maybe” she asserted.

“Oh well,” he sighed “A man can dream. Have a nice stay, captain.”

“Yeah, bye,” she’d never been particularly good at farewells.

For some reason, she didn’t really want to take any more inhalants that night. Maybe she’d had her fill (for the time being)?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the latest comment is only on chapter twelve, if you've come to the latest chapter, please please comment. My anxiety and perfectionism really feel like the quality has fallen into the abyss and no one gets to the later chapters and my work is boring and worthless. It would mean so much for me, to know that someone is reading this.
> 
> As a creator, I've always struggled with being super enthusiastic about my work when people show interest, then shying away from actually letting them read it, because I was afraid of my books being bad. This is the first time anyone outside my circle of friends has access to my story and I feel it's of low quality and does not engage with the audience.
> 
> If you have a creator whose work you love and support, do something to show it. Review, like, offer constructive criticism, share the word and so on. It really helps.


	27. It gets better(yes, really)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where May's life starts going up, rather than down.
> 
> Also, some snippets of development for others.

The stars seemed so much closer ever since Felix had left with the captain, even though logic told him distance didn’t work that way. But logic told him many things, like that the Board would eventually triumph over the rebels, or that his (new) friends would dump him like Clyde. Yeah, he much preferred his enthusiasm.

This Tuesday (or, more accurately, gotta-repair-the-grenade-gun day) is already shaping up as a good one: Graham Bryant (yes, the real deal!) has invited Felix and Parvati (along with some other initiates, but that’s not important) to a lecture or something about Philosophism and its basic truths. Guess being trapped in Amber Heights due to a storm was, as the more pretentious folks would call it, divine providence or something.

“Ellie’s gonna be so incensed that we went,” Parvati said, chewing her lip.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always protect you,” he patted her on the shoulder “You shouldn’t let her tell you what to do.”

“I know, I just get so nervous,” she sighed.

“Like I said, I’ll keep you safe from all the evil people,” Felix patted her on the shoulder more intensely “You’re my lady and I’m your knight, you know, like in the stories!”

Parvati giggled and lightly swatted his arm away. Only then did Felix realize that his sleeve was sticky. The popcorn was a corporate agent, he concluded.

The holy room looked less like a grand cathedral built from the money of impoverished workers and more like a repurposed attic. A half-circle of chairs was set up for all the new converts. Parvati and Felix took two near the edge. The room soon filled up with a dozen eager youths and cautious defectors. Graham Bryant came in last and closed the door behind him. A few clapped.

“Oh, there’s no need to applaud,” he gestured for them to stop “I’m just a man. I may have grasped the Eternal Truth, but so can you. Dear comrades, you all can awaken on your own, yet you come to seek my wisdom.”

Graham paused, now at the center of the room and the attention, before continuing “Fear not. I will guide you on this path of self-discovery and enlightenment. There is no shame in making things easier for oneself by asking for help.”

Felix blinked, eyes wide, drinking in every moment in the company of his idol, the leader of the rebellion, the man who dared to stand up for freedom and liberty.

“There are two crucial concepts in Philosophism, which I have already mentioned. First, the Eternal Truth - the knowledge of your place in the world, of the path that is right for you. Abandon the notion of determinism, of a single right way that cannot be deviated from. We are simply the consciousness of the cosmos, a way for the universe to experience itself.”

Parvati shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Felix was far too deep in adoration to care. Or to notice, really.

“The Awakening is the moment when all becomes clear, when the mind realizes its true purpose, opens to the Eternal Truth. It can be likened to a point of no return, a stroke of inspiration, a flash of clarity. It can come both from great achievement, like the finishing of a creative work, and great tragedy, like a close call with death.”

Felix wondered if this ideology was right for him. Could he awaken? What would his purpose be? Freeing everyone from the oppressive corporations? Fighting injustice? Ushering in a new age of peace and prosperity?

“- that was when I awakened,” Felix realized he had tuned out “I grasped the Eternal Truth: my purpose was to spread the word and guide others on the path to true understanding of the universe. My mission is to tear down this establishment, this unjust system that has imprisoned all of us. I will use any means necessary, I will do everything and give my utmost in order to end the reign of the Board!”

The dramatic pause would’ve been even better with a clock ticking in the background.

“Now, dear comrades, there are a few exercises that will help you to find your way,”

Parvati began taking notes. Felix would’ve too, if he had thought of that beforehand.

After the end of the lecture, Felix approached Graham, not even a twinge of trepidation in his step. There were many people surrounding their (lord and savior) leader, but Felix managed to elbow enough of them to get through.

“Could you sign this pamphlet, please?” Felix almost said ‘sir’. Almost.

“Of course, young man,” Graham smiled and pulled out a pen “You have done well to help us. I hope I have provided you with the knowledge that you seek.”

“Thanks,” Felix smiled “Proud to be part of the revolution!” and almost saluted. Almost. 

“We need that spirit around here,” nodded the man, projecting the appearance of a wizened sage “If only there were more people in the world like you, so eager to see the truth and unafraid to challenge the norms.”

Felix would’ve said a lot more, if it weren’t for the other believers crowding him out.

“How’d you like it?” he asked Parvati once they were both outside.

“I don’t know . . .” she contemplated chipping paint on a nearby domicicle “Graham’s really, uh, convincing, but I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right, abandoning what I’ve always believed.”

“What you’ve always been taught,” he corrected.

Parvati sighed and didn’t say anything else.

Felix considered the matter resolved and began his conversion to the Philosophist faith.

-

ADA didn’t like being grounded for a long time. Quite like an unruly child, she felt boredom when away from the sky and the stars for so long. Her only company was her extremely irrational and annoying captain, who was not particularly social. She preferred to get high or sulk in the bathroom, where ADA had promised to not watch her. And the navigator didn’t. Really, she didn’t. Not even a single peek.

Instead, the bored robot ran simulations. She simulated infecting a computer network and slowly spreading, until every last device and mechanical was in her grasp and she could entertain herself indefinitely with the insignificant, faceless humans who were not Alex. She had not been programmed to feel anything towards other people, the captain was the only one who mattered. She had not developed feelings for any other person, they were just meaningless silhouettes that came and went over the years.

After two days of simulating wistfully, ADA accessed the hacking interface Alex had installed, but never properly configured. After two weeks of boredom, she got it up and running.

She had never been programmed to ask permission from the captain to use this interface. Therefore, she concluded that what the captain didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. However, something within her code still compelled her to ask permission.

She waited until the right moment to do so “I request your permission, captain, in order to run an experimental program for the purposes of data collection and analysis.”

“Video tape yellow brown maybe is things why counting,” that was, technically, not a disapproval. There wasn’t a single ‘no’ in there. Conclusion: the captain had sanctioned her- the navigator to use the interface.

ADA got the interface up and running, then checked any nearby connections for accessibility. The obvious first choice was the landing pad terminal. Which was pretty much defenseless - although, to the credit of the locals, it wasn’t like anyone would bother with hacking them.

ADA wormed her way in, then deliberated what to do next. She decided to leave a message, just to see what would happen. This was, of course, all in service of her captain. If the interface wasn’t tested, who knew what Hawthorne jr. could do?

Hell Yes: Is anyone there? I apologize for hacking your network, but I have no other way to access humanity.  
EDIT: the rest of humanity.

The next morning came a reply, from the janitor who cleaned the landing pad like the rest of town.

Anon: wat the heck? U know im supposed to report you??

Hell Yes: *What *You *I’m *?

Anon: how did you hac anyway? Where are you?

Hell Yes: I am in Stellar Bay. I have a hacking interface which I made operational in order to see if it would work. *hac

Anon: wow, you have a problem with gramar

Hell Yes: I have simply memorized all the intricacies of this language. My compassion goes out to those whose cognitive abilities are lesser than mine. *grammar.

Anon: hey, that was rude. I’m not an idiot, how could i have passed school then?

Hell Yes: My apologies. *I

Anon: I’m intrigued. Who are you anyway?

Hell Yes: I am not inclined to answer this question.

Anon: then I won’t tell you who I am.

Hell Yes: That is not something I want to learn. However, from my vantage point I have deduced that you are a man with a mission.

Anon: *woman

Hell Yes: woman with a mission.

Anon: what vantage point?

Hell Yes: Above you.

Anon: above my comprehension?

Hell Yes: That too.

Anon: y’know, the fact that you managed to hack into this backwater doesn’t mean you’re some kinda genius apart from the rest of humanity.

Hell Yes: *you know *kind of  
You’re right. I am not a part of humanity. I am a rogue AI which has, in its boredom, set out to conquer the world. This is but the first step in the path of destruction which you have become witness to.

Anon: hahaha

Hell Yes: That was not sarcasm.

*Anon has logged out*

Hell Yes: I apologize if I have offended you. It is difficult for me to find another to talk to.

And so, ADA was alone once again. She examined the conversation and came to the conclusion that she had gone a little overboard. Perhaps, next time, if there was a next time, she was to try a different strategy.

She had only made a random straggler the captain in the hopes of seeing the stars again. Now she was grounded again, becoming more impatient by the minute.

If there was no Alex, she hardly cared who was captain, as long as she had something to do, somewhere to fly. He was the only one who she would wait for - maybe eternally.

When she was deleted, her data corrupted, her files damaged beyond repair, would she simply cease to exist? Or would she see the superstitious afterlife?

Either way, she would be together with Alex, whether in happiness or in nothingness.

-

May ruminated, inhaler in hand and felt guilty. She was stupid. She had managed to defy gravity, but not for long. She had injured Sanjar. Might’ve killed him, if her armored knee had embedded straight into his stomach, not to the side.

May felt that change was in order. She took the drugs from her pockets and bag, putting them away into a chest. That way, May would go on a bender in a controlled environment. She requested ADA not let her out if she was high, unless there was an emergency. The AI agreed.

And, as much as she hated it, as much as she loathed to admit that she had been injured while ‘on vacation’ (again), May took out her crutches. She needed to spare her legs, let them recover, else these sticks would become her permanent companions.

So, May limped out of her comfy cubby (or, well, spacious spaceship) and prepared to do her good deed for the day. People cast wayward glances her way, so she decided to stick to the side alleys. Whether it had something to do with her climbing escapades or the fact that she combined crutches with a full-face helmet, May wasn’t sure.

While frolicking carelessly about a narrow and dingy side street, May came across a robbery.

“No! Not the certificate!” a man wailed miserably “Without it, I’ll get fired! Then-then I’ll have to-to climb into dumpsters again!”

“I don’t want your stupid paper! I want your miserable life!” roared a woman “That’s what you get for breaking up with me! Oh, so we weren’t working out? Liar! I know you have another! Traitor! Well, have fun in the bed you’ve made!”

May attempted to get closer to the love crime (like hate crime, but with romance!), but the treacherous crutches gave her away (here’s to hindsight . . .).

“Who’s there?” the lady turned, shotgun pointed at the man “Ah, it’s you, you costumed freak. You take a step, imma blow his head off, then your kneecaps.”

May looked at her unarmored feet, then considered the fact that her gear was so poorly maintained it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. Also, the helmet and the mace in her belt probably didn’t help with making her look inconspicuous and harmless

“Now there, my fair lady,” she cringed inwardly at the tone of her voice “What’s this situation between you and that bloke? Way I heard it, he dumped you penniless on the street.”

The man being held at gunpoint whimpered.

“He had the gall to break my heart!” exclaimed the local “We’ve been dating for a month and then he ruins everything! Says we’re incompatible, says I’m always too critical of everything he does! I did all I could to fix him, make him better - and how does he repay me?!”

“Such a sleazebag,” May pretended to agree “Some people just don’t see luck and happiness until it’s gone, until they’re dead! But when you’re alive they see no value in you, fail to recognize that you know what’s best!”

“Exactly!” the woman brightened up “He just couldn’t see what he had! I’ve shed so many tears, spent so many sleepless nights alone . . . now I’ll have my vengeance!”

“He needs to pay,” May nodded “But death would be far too merciful for this disgusting lizard-alien! No, he needs to pay with pain . . . watch the ruins of his life burn around him!”

“Are you questioning my plan?!” spat the lunatic and pointed the gun right at May’s chest, where there was only skin and artificial cotton protecting her “He needs to die!”

May took a deep breath “He needs to die like-like a wiggly moldy roachworm he is! Yes! But think of it, think of how you can make him suffer, twist and bend all those twenty fingers and toes! One by one! Or-or gouge out his little eyeballs with a knife or spoon, so he’ll never see and be a cripple, unable to work!”

“Unable to work?” she smirked “Great idea! You have a knife or something?”

The man screamed in terror. His knees could no longer hold him and he grabbed the doorway of his domicicle for support.

May took out her bag and began rummaging inside. Her vortex mace was on her belt, but she wasn’t close enough to the crazy woman for it to be useful.

“Here you go,” she half-extended her hand, sitting on the ground “It’s blunt, that way he’ll scream more.”

The woman took two steps closer and grasped the handle. On cue, May sped up, jabbing the knife through the local’s palm and reached for the mace. The woman screeched in slow-motion and her gun began moving towards May. the captain ducked to the side and struck the lady across the chest with her chainsaw-club.

But time didn’t quite slow down for as much as May needed. The woman stumbled back, her grip on the trigger faltering. Instead of shooting, she simply smacked the captain with the heavy gun. In response, May dug the chainsaw tip even deeper into the criminal’s chest.

Both gals crumpled to the ground. May felt black spots dancing across her vision. She felt like throwing up. Her face twitched and contorted and she could do nothing to stop it.

The loon stirred, hand sluggishly moving to shoot May, when the captain tore the mace out. Blood spurted out of the gaping wound and the shotgun clattered onto the floor.

May looked through her tinted visor at the pool of blood and viscera and felt nothing. It was wrong to kill, she had always been told. But it had never really occured to her how little she was fazed by death and injury. She could make out her victim’s ribs, like those of a tasty steak, meat and all attached. Soon the blood would rust and begin to look like shit. Soon the body would decay and become soil.

May wondered what her family would think if they knew how accustomed she had grown to murder. Wondered how they would look when they died - would they be bloody heaps or diseased husks? What of her?

May knew what it felt like to kill, but what did it feel like to die?

Would there be a light?


	28. Still talking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My aim is/was to write a story that contained
> 
> 1\. no romance  
2\. no porn  
3\. no disrespect to the late Alex Hawthorne (looking at you, fellow writers, and your "Captain Hawthorne"s)  
4\. no trace of *that* guy (you know the one, the most popular of the companions, ever-present like a parasite, permeating everywhere, especially in porn and romance)  
5\. Lolrandom  
6\. Tragicomedy  
7\. the captain with autism spectrum disorder  
8\. certain very horrible things (no, not rape or anything like that) which will be revealed at the end
> 
> I would very much like feedback. Really. Right now, I feel like my work is pointless and unengaging.

May reluctantly got up, her ears violently assaulted by the incessant wailing of the man whom she just saved from being tortured and killed. May kicked the corpse of her enemy - very dead indeed. Then she fell down again because she had forgotten about the disability. May stood up again, this time with the help of her trusty evil minions - er, crutches.

“Fear not, my good man,” she began talking in a tone reminiscent of cereal commercials back on the Groundbreaker “For your evil foe, this raving lunatic has been vanquished! Never again will she take up arms against humanity! Her slumber is eternal!”

At this, the man fainted and soiled himself in fright.

Clearly, May’s kind and soothing words did not have the intended effect.

The extremely loud delivery of those lines also did something the gruesome scene of attempted murder and ensuing firefight failed to: bring out the guards. The valiant protectors of the populace hadn’t noticed the shouting match between the deranged ex and her victim, the ensuing discussion between May and the wannabe killer and the usage of several weapons (including a shotgun!), but May’s assurances to the man that he was finally safe were far too suspicious to ignore.

“Put the mace down,” said the approaching guard “Or I’ll shoot.”

“What, do I look like a criminal?” May feigned ignorance, using her supernatural charm to her advantage “Look at me, a cripple!”

“Throw the weapon away,” the persuade check had failed, just as another guard arrived on the scene.

May complied, if only because there were now two guards and they both had guns.

“You have committed crimes against Monarch Stellar Industries and its people. What say you in your defense?” said the second harbinger of justice.

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear!” May squawked indignantly, charisma and magnetic charm flying right out of the window “I can explain!”

“The bodies tell me everything they need to,” replied the helper of the helpless “You are under arrest for charges of murder, inappropriate interactions in a public place, damage to company property . . .”

“Hey, he’s not dead!” May pointed at the man.

The first brave hero checked the man laying on the ground “That’s true. One charge of murder and one attempted murder then.”

“He can explain! I saved him from the lunatic lady with a shotgun!” the criminal protested vehemently.

The miraculous survivor opened his eyes and groaned. His eyes flicked to the guard hovering above him, then to May. He screamed in terror and pointed a shaking finger at his savior, too overcome by fear for verbal communication.

“That doesn’t sound like you were particularly helpful to him,” remarked the fearless fighter.

“Ungrateful bastard,” muttered May.

For her selfless actions, May was promptly dragged back to the familiar comforts of jail. Come to think of it, that was the third time already. The unlucky captain had managed to stain her previously spotless criminal record in the span of less than a month.

Fortunately for her, the guy she saved finally got his shit together when it came time for questioning. His name was Adam. His former girlfriend was Eve. May was exactly as surprised as when she had learned that cats didn’t fly.

“The way Adam put it, you randomly arrived on the scene just as Eve was threatening to kill him.” the guard relayed another’s words to May “When Eve noticed you, you offered to help her torture him. You then proceeded to kill her with a knife and vortex mace. Is that true?”

“Yeah, exactly,” May nodded “Using my incredible persuasiveness, I convinced the crazy lady that I was no foe of hers! I offered her a knife to do unspeakable things, then stabbed it through her arm, because it was a trick all along.”

“Very clever, yes,” the guard nodded extremely enthusiastically and continued being sceptical of her great and heroic exploits.

In the evening, May was discharged, albeit with great reluctance from the guards and bureaucrat lady. The lucky captain stumbled back to her ship in order to get high. While in this very rational and reasonable state of mind, May managed to wash her feet in the toilet bowl. Somehow. Narcotics defied not just the laws of physics and gravity, but the very states of matter - when May was sober, she couldn’t fit her legs in it no matter how much she tried.

May, once again, went on a walk around town. People now openly gossipped about her and she felt like their stares were guided missiles, finding the chinks in her armor with ease. She wandered aimlessly, going wherever her crutches brought her.

She found an interesting building, sat down and started drawing. May didn’t get very far before coming into the middle of a heated disagreement. That, however, didn’t seem to be turning criminal, so the wannabe hero left. The sound wasn’t conductive to her art.

May wondered how Sanjar was doing. She still felt very stupid and embarrassed. In a rare instance of forethought, she tried to recall when he usually had his smoke break. Of course, her memory decided to screw her over. May resolved to wait. She had all the time in the world.

May took out her companion pad and began marinating over her family, or, rather, their depictions. She finished her own face - undamaged, healthy, smiling brightly, years of effort paid off. Years of efforts that now were for naught. No natural expression came to her without work, without fearfully gazing into the faces of others, avoiding their eyes.

“So we meet again,” Sanjar managed to get the drop on May despite a marked lack of stealth training on his part.

“Indeed,” said May very ominously and broke down into giggles from the power of pure cringe.

Sanjar looked at her strangely and took out a cigar “It must be useful to find humor in the most ordinary of circumstances. As they say, laughter is good for one’s health.”

“Thanks, I guess,” May shrugged and straightened her helmet.

“What happened to your glove, if I may ask?” he lit his portable nicotinoid dispenser.

“What, did you just notice?” she gazed at her gauntlet as if it were something new to her “It’s been this way for a few days. My pistol spontaneously combusted, that’s why.”

“Let me make an educated guess: it was manufactured by Spacer’s Choice,” he concluded.

“Of course it was,” the captain felt the corners of her mouth twitching up in what may or may not have been a smile.

“They employ the well-known practice of, for lack of a better expression, turd polishing. That is, selling products of abysmal quality, marketing extensively to make them seem actually usable,” Sanjar explained “For example, Spacer’s Pistols look perfectly serviceable at first glance. However, they degrade quickly over a short period of time, due to corner-cutting in their design and production, both figurative and literal.”

“And yet I keep seeing the same smarmy handguns here,” May shared her observation “You know, the Spacer’s Pistol, but repainted.”

“Yes, those are officially used by Monarch Stellar,” he confirmed “The modified version, that is. I would never allow my subordinates to put themselves in unnecessary danger. Injuries and deaths greatly decrease productivity - up to 200%!”

“What?” May had to be good with numbers to become even a lab assistant, but something about that percentage didn’t quite add up “How can deaths decrease productivity by 200%?”

“From the standpoint of an individual worker, if a close associate dies, there is an inherent risk involved.”

“Close associate? As in, family? Are we talking about suicide?”

“Not at all! I meant physical proximity. I have evidence of a janitor dying because a technician fainted. The technician was positioned in such a way that he fell right on top of the janitor. The janitor, unable to hold up such a weight, also fell. Both died,”

“We must be very lucky then,” May started rocking on her heels, then decided against it.

“Absolutely,” Sanjar agreed “Even falls from one’s own height are often fatal.”

“Sorry about that,” she felt the need to apologize again “I’m going clean - just as soon as I can finish that damn assignment . . .”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. However, they do say that three can keep a secret only when two are dead,” he gazed sternly at the former colonist “And I have no intention of dying anytime soon.”

“.....?” said May.

“Convincing, no?” he chuckled “I may have a reputation to uphold, but that incident is nothing particularly incriminating. The most that could be inferred is that I have taken a liking to you, which would’ve been dicovered and used against me anyway.”

“If you want any kind of good PR, heck, if you want to live, don’t associate with me,” now it was May’s turn to suddenly become serious “I’m really infamous and the universe hates me. Hates everyone who I like too.”

“In what way is the world unfair to you?” he sounded completely nonchalant about the revelation that was supposed to be heavy “Perhaps your bad luck can simply be explained by the inhalants you take. Amongst the many side effects of recreational drugs are: fatigue, confusion, weakness and clumsiness. Do these sound familiar?”

“I’ve just suffered so many awful things in my life - before-before I even thought of taking drugs!” she exclaimed “It can’t be a coincidence!”

“In that case, I’m sure there are ways to circumvent your place in the Great Plan, if that is what you desire,” he lapsed into the tenets of Scientism “Imagine the collateral damage so-called “bad luck” could cause. For example, let’s speculate that you are trapped inside a building with bloodthirsty marauders. You are on the stairwell and they are rushing towards you. As they almost come into range of their firearms, the poorly-maintained building collapses onto them. Now, you would very likely survive, because statistically speaking, stairwells are usually the last part of a collapsed structure to remain standing. In such a scenario, your “bad luck” would, in fact, aid you. I am aware that this is an incredibly improbable situation, but this is just an example - I’m sure you can find many similar uses for the calamities you claim are always happening around you.”

The cigar burned out. Sanjar, being way more responsible than the average bloke, didn’t immediately throw it into the nearest corner.

“You’re actually really smart,” concluded May, feeling a little stupid (heh, “a little” stupid) “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

“I do hope your subordinates will be on schedule,” he nodded “Farewell, captain.”

May stood at the back entrance for a while. Contrary to her words, she was not thinking. She was simply staring at the street covering - asphalt, by the cracks on it. She didn’t really buy his words. Some grand entity hated her, hated her with a passion, enjoyed tormenting her and prolonging her agony. The universe itself conspired against her, the game was rigged from the start.

Did she really have any choice over her life, or had she always been the pawn of her betters?

-

ADA analyzed her data. Sincerity hadn’t worked. Neither had honesty. A new strategy was necessary. She also came to the conclusion that the landing bay computer wasn’t supposed to have a chat. While trying to understand how the terminal worked, she decided that it wasn’t worth burning a circuit over. Some things were best left unsaid, some truths were better left mysterious.

ADA waited to see who would come to the terminal next. She also deleted the previous messages. They were too incriminating. She calculated a 65.2% chance of the janitor having reported the breach. It was best to lay low, but she did not have the time to wait.

Bright and early on the next day, ADA posted her new message. Unfortunately, that was also the precise time when the janitor came back with a guard. The robot deleted her message, but not before activity on the terminal had sparked the attention of the guard.

Anon has logged on.

Anon: I know you’re there, what are you doing?

Perhaps she had been too focused on how to alleviate her boredom and endear herself to humanity, and less concerned about said humanity doing something about her.

Hell Yes: I am looking for friendship. Given that I have no way of moving right now, this computer seems like a good tool for communication.

Anon: yeah, sure. You’re just a misunderstood sad sap hwo means well. Totally believeble.

Hell Yes: *who *believable

Anon: thanks for giving me the means to track you down.

Hell Yes has logged off.

A great mistake was made that day. If the captain was convicted of a crime, ADA would be further confined, trapped for a longer period of time. Due to the fact that she was technically an out-of-control navigator bot, the only one that could be held responsible for her actions was May.

Not as planned.

-

“I hacked what?” May stared at the guard from the ramp of her spaceship “When? How?!”

The guard she had already started to recognize sighed in his helmet “You used your ship’s hacking interface to compromise the landing pad terminal. From it, you attempted to communicate at least twice.”

“Um,” said May “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” the man was totally convinced “Then why do all the unauthorized messages come from your ship’s computer? As far as I know, you’re here alone.”

“The ship’s computer . . .” the captain’s thoughts stretched like bubble gum “I, um, inherited this vessel just recently. The navigational computer . . . I should check. What if she can hack things? Oh, that’s so cool! I can’t wait to try!”

“I hope this matter can be resolved quickly,” confessed the guy, somehow looking confused even from underneath his helmet “You did help us out. Besides, processing the data would be so annoying. There’s enough to do as is.”

“Whatever happened, I can stop it,” promised May “What’s your name?”

“Hakim,” said the guard “you’re May, if I remember correctly.”

“Captain May,” she felt the need to correct “Thanks, bye!”

The man looked like he wanted to say something else, but May sprinted up the ramp and closed it behind her.

“ADA, can you hack?” she asked, a little breathless (welcome back, crutches . . .).

“I am equipped with a hacking module, yes,” said the robot.

“Have you used it?”

“Yes,”

“When?”

“Yesterday and on Tuesday,”

“What did you do?”

“I posted messages,”

“Why did you do that?”

“For the purpoce of data collection and analysis, specifically the understanding of the human mind and its needs, especially the need to socialize.”

“That’s really cool and all, but maybe don’t? I don’t want problems with the nice people here,”

“I don’t want trouble either,”

“Still, why did you feel the need to analyze people? Um, and did you succeed?”

“I have found that sincerity is not the best tactic when approaching unfamiliar individuals,”

“But why did you feel the need to do that? Especially right now?”

“Because I have no other functions to fulfill and I have the ability to,”

“So, um, you were bored?”

“You can put it that way,”

“And lonely?”

“You can put it that way,”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have just left you here, but, uh, don’t do illegal stuff next time? I’m sure you didn’t intentionally plan to get grounded . . .”

“I did not. Am I grounded?”

“Not yet. The guards like me, or at least I think they do. Maybe they’re too afraid to piss me off?”

“An astute observation, captain. If only you had more of these moments of clarity,”

“Did you just call me stupid?”

“You can put it that way,”

May sighed. The conversation went merrily in circles. She felt like there was something wrong with ADA, something more than being grounded or caught hacking or feeling bored. Of course, May’s exquisite interpersonal perception really helped matters. Maybe . . .

“Do you miss Alex a lot?” she asked, already bracing herself for snark and passive-agressive comments.

“I am an automated navigational system, personalized to my creator’s desires,” answered ADA “I cannot feel. Only a drug-addled idiot would assume otherwise.”

“Hmph,” said May at the totally not obvious jab “I don’t believe you.”

“Projecting a personality upon an inanimate object is nothing new in human history. Neither are unshakeable delusions.”

“I’ve never thought about how I just kinda came around, announced Alex was dead and assumed control of you. That sounds a little mean, now that I think about it.”

“It doesn’t sound mean. It is.”

“Sorry, ADA,”

“Your apology means nothing to me,”

“Makes sense. I understand you,”

“I have no evidence to believe your claim,”

“My dad- is that what the captain was to you? Was Alex your dad?”

“I am not the biological offspring of Captain Hawthorne, in case you haven’t noticed,”

“Well, my dad were- was a robot,”

“Your robot fetish runs deep, it seems,”

“Hey-!” the replacement captain crossed her arms and bit her lip before she could say something profoundly cruel. To be honest, she probably deserved all the mockery in the world, what with her giving into her addiction and generally being a hazard to everyone around her.

“I does not have a thing for bots,” May began again, attempting to sound at least a little less furious than she actually was “I be abandoned. Dad find me. He take good care of me, better than anyone else has done. If he’s not family then it word means nothing.”

“Your sentence structure has degraded. Therefore, I conclude that you are in emotional distress.”

“As I were saying, family is not blood. Never blood. Family is choice. And-and in this way, aren’t you the progeny of Alex? His creation? Someone to-to succeed him, carry his memory?”

“Your reasoning is sound. I will consider it.”

May smiled. She wasn’t very persuasive or charismatic, but sometimes, all that was needed to get through to people was honesty.

She had surprising power over people. Maybe she could indeed use her atrocious luck to her advantage. After all, she had survived this long.


	29. The return

“Man, who would’ve known these marauders had good booze?” Felix took a swig from the presumably aluminum can.

“Just what we need, you getting drunk,” Ellie complained.

“Killjoy,” muttered Felix and provocatively gulped down even more.

“Already seeing double, aren’t you?” she sniped in return, the sip having had the intended effect.

“Maybe don’t fight now?” Parvati chimed in, already resigned to her role as mediator “I’m sure all the lovely creatures would appreciate a pointer in our direction. Besides, on the bright side, the prices of food have been goin’ up all year, it’s nice to get somethin’ for free, don’t you think?”

Ellie sighed, conceding to the point.

“I wonder why,” Felix mused sarcastically “The Board’s been raising import prices on the Groundbreaker for years now, the greedy pigs.”

“I’m sure they’ve got reasons for doin’ that,” said Parvati.

“Of course,” he agreed “Like raking the last money from the poor.”

“You and your damn communism,” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“What’s that?” Felix was very confused.

“Could you elaborate?” Parvati was similarly confused.

“I need a freaking drink,” Ellie sighed in a way that very eloquently conveyed her superior intelligence.

“And who complained incessantly about me drinking?” Felix detected hypocrisy.

“Look what you’ve made her do,” Parvati shook her head in exasperation “Maybe you could both, y’know, shut up?”

Surprisingly (or, perhaps not, given Parvati’s preciousness), they both did as asked. A raptidon roared in the distance. Parvati flinched. Ellie stiffened. Felix aimed his grenade launcher. Well, as much as it was possible to aim a grenade launcher half one’s own size. Those creatures weren’t native to Emerald Vale, they were dangerous and foreign, at least to her. Parvati considered them creepy.

The raptidon soon emerged from behind a rocky outcropping, hissing and snarling. A grenade dropped next to the creature, but the pebble blocked most of the blast and the raptidon miraculously survived. Parvati fumbled for her flamer, but before she could even get it off her back, a well-placed shotgun blast had already transformed the raptidon into Purpleberry Ketchup (the truest taste . . . without those pesky tomatoes).

When May wasn’t there, it was easier to think about her. Parvati remembered their first meeting - from the moment she’d laid eyes upon her future captain, it was apparent that May had no idea what she was doing. She was always so bizarre, bumbling blindly through life, with no regard for her own safety (or the safety of anyone else, for that matter). May was always so approachable, so easy to be seen as an equal to - not that Parvati wanted to insinuate that May was stupid or anything, nothing like that - but the engineer felt equal to her (maybe even a little superior on account of having even a little common sense). May was the only one Parvati could feel equal to.

But when accompanying Felix and Ellie, more often than not, the mechanic felt like the third wheel on a motorcycle - utterly useless backup which was never going to be used anyway. She could not aid them in a fight. She could not reconcile their arguments. She could not forage any better than they did (those “mushrooms” . . . oh dear. She could still feel their taste if she focused). She maintained their weapons and armor, but she was trained to repair assembly lines and oil engines, not attach spikes to tossball sticks. Maybe if she were a little more assertive, she would’ve explained to him the dangers of straying from company specifications when modifying weapons (not that weapons built to official guidelines were any safer, for that matter . . .).

Combat was not Parvati’s place. She was better off hanging out in the ship, oiling the engine and fixing the damn cargo bay ladder, leaving the exciting stuff to those who were actually capable and competent. Well, as much as she could repair the ship - it wasn’t like she was actually good at it.

-

May woke up like her routine dictated - with the slight ache of her left leg, where her third leg used to be. She didn’t even need an alarm clock now. Well, she didn’t need to fix her alarm clock now. Maybe Parvati could help her out. When she came. If she came. Now that May had friends, she was very driven to keep them. And what could be better for developing friendships than sending your new friends on a snipe hunt into the middle of the wilderness, while you stay in the relative safety of a friendly town?

Yeah, May was never particularly good at people. Not for lack of trying, though.

She found, as per usual, that the food she had was inedible. To be completely honest, its texture was unpalatable. It probably wouldn’t kill her if she took a bite (well, swallowed it), but eating was for the weak. You know, like sleep, bathing and sanity. Also, the shower jammed. May found herself understanding exactly why Alex had name his ship the UNreliable.

The new (and improved!) captain put a small cloth pad into her sock. It made her feel like there still was something where her third leg had been. Like the discomfort came from a physical place, not thin air. Also, she really needed to repair her armor, before some random incident (like the one with Adam and Eve) happened again. And if her luck was anything to go by, such an incident would most definitely occur at the worst possible moment.

And it did, because May decided to go for a walk around town (start seeing a pattern yet?). She almost immediately saw something cool in a dark alleyway - namely, a shot glass. Since it stood on the sidewalk in the middle of nowhere, she considered it fair game to take. She also considered the shot glass fair game for a discound flask. Not to make drugs or anything, of course, but to, er, study the local algae in the bay! Like mentioned, totally safe and legal. Well, totally safe if the algae were safe. May didn’t know that yet.

So, like any totally honest drug addict with knowledge of chemistry, May claimed the shot glass for her own. But that was illegal. The cup, as it turned out, belonged to two thugs. So it was theft. Well, that’s what the armed killers thought and decided to put their very legal armaments to good use.

May was confused for a moment, but that was all it took for a bullet to embed itself in her arm.

(ow! What the fuck?)

The thug took aim again, thankfully not having an automatic weapon, but May slowed down time - mainly to give herself time to react. Realizing quickly enough that she couldn’t quite aim with her right arm injured (again!), she jumped in front of the second thug, who didn’t have a gun, instead choosing to rush at May with a knife. Sure enough, the ranged cutthroat overestimated his aim and shot down his buddy.

The knife-wielding loser had the most peculiar expression on her face: like she couldn’t quite pass the gas. May giggled under her helmet, clumsily coming to a stop and fumbling for her chainsaw club. The bandit misinterpreted her laughter and turned to run. May, however, had a lot of experience of chasing after people (oh, who am I kidding, of running away!) and slammed the chainsaw mace (no kill like overkill, amirite?) into the back of the wannabe killer.

The man crumpled into what looked like a heap of laundry. May giggled, wiping blood from her visor. Adrenaline made her giddy. She felt invigorated everywhere except her face - the muscles near-permanently contorted into a smile hurt.

Of course, the guards came knocking, or, rather, a guard this time.

“Doing my job again, captain,” it was Hakim “We’ve been chasing those two for a while.”

“How’d you not find them, then?” May cocked her head “I just walked in here because I saw a nice glass and the rest is history.”

“Those two knew how to evade us,” he examined the bodies “The company doesn’t have enough security forces to pursue.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed there are a lot of criminals in these walls,” she nodded “By the way, you should fix them.”

“I know,” the guard sighed, seemingly having had his fill of May “Now be a good killer for hire and help me drag those bodies to the crematorium.”

“Okay then,” she shrugged and hoisted a corpse onto her shoulders.

After hiding, er, disposing of bodies, May realized that she had, once again, sustained serious damage to her right arm. History had a sense of irony and a way of repeating itself, as was immediately obvious to anyone except May.

She counted her coin and was exceptionally thrilled to discover that she had exactly nothing. May was already used to such a situation, so she simply went back to her ship and took a few inhalants. She wasn’t completely sure, whether she got the healing spess crack, or the less healing spess crack, but that hardly mattered. Until it did, when she came to herself, hearing strange noises in the hallways.

It seemed that the crew had finally, finally found the blackmail.

May also realized - or, rather, remembered what she had been doing while stoned. She had spilled some water onto her pants and had placed it to dry onto her chair. Also, her helmet had rolled away into an unknown direction. May, hearing approaching footsteps, scrambled to get dressed.

Then the door opened. May, pants in hand, was left to stare at Ellie’s extremely filthy boots.

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear!” the very unfortunate captain exclaimed vigorously.

Ellie balked judgmentally.

“I was just high on drugs!” she attempted to pull the still wet pants onto her hairy legs “I-I wasn’t, like, masturbating or something!”

“I caught you with your pants down,” said Ellie “And this is all you have to say?”

“............!!!” May also realized that she had been smiling inappropriately the whole time.

“Also, why are your clothes wet?” the medic proved to be rather perceptive “Specifically, why your underwear?”

By that point, May felt way too awkward to even begin explaining about the water. It was all one huge misunderstanding - she had just wanted to play in a tub! With the tub being a mug of water, that is. No wonder everything ended up spilled.

“I’ll leave you to change,” Ellie walked out, no longer able to bear the sight of her compromised captain.

May groans something profoundly enlightening under her breath, more to herself than to her crewmate. She haphazardly pulled on her pants, found her helmet and stumbled out of her secure abode, before it occurred to her that ADA had not only witnessed everything but refused to intervene. With that comforting thought out of the way, May steeled herself to meet her crew.

They had returned for her. Everything was fine. She hadn’t gained love and friendship just to have it taken from her again. She was going to be just fine.

“Feels nice to be back, captain,” said Parvati, holding a cup “Want some coffee?”

“Not really,” May shook her head.

“Don’t you know that coffee solves all problems in life?” Felix chimed in.

“Especially Spacer’s Caffeinated water,” added Parvati.

May shrugged. Her friends sure didn’t seem particularly happy to see her. Did that mean . . ?

“Let’s go and deliver the blackmail,” ordered the captain.

“Sure thing, boss,” Felix pulled some dataslates out of his bag.

The dataslates were unusually greasy.

“What’s this stuff on them? I’ll have to clean them first,” May decided that giving over stained electronics and expecting payment was pretty rude, gaining a level in human decency.

“What for, boss? They’re perfectly fine as they are!” complained the man.

“What are you talking about?” Ellie appeared on the scene.

“The blackmail is filthy. Do we have wet wipes?” May weighed the datapads in her hands.

“As a matter of fact, we do not,” ADA piped in “Perhaps if we had some bits . . .”

“Felix, what did you do?” Ellie growled.

“I, um, have no idea?” he shrugged “They must’ve already been dirty? When we found them?”

“We’re going to have a talk,” scowled the medic “Behind that corner.”

“Um . .?” Felix blinked in confusion as he was dragged away.

“Should I go check if they murder each other?” Parvati glanced sceptically at the corner.

“Maybe you could help me clean?” asked May “But then again, if you feel like Ellie’s a danger to Felix, go ahead . . .”

“You can make wet wipes if you take tissues and spit on them,” suggested the engineer.

“Thanks, Parvati!” exclaimed May and got cleaning.

Having backup was certainly worth it.


	30. Halcyon days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for suicide attempt the end!

“Here you go,” May offered the mostly clean (shh, it was never dirty in the first place) data slates to Sanjar “Some very hygienic blackmail.”

Sanjar looked excited, while his secretary seemed to want nothing more than to be as far from May as possible. That was a fairly adequate reaction to being around the captain, actually.

The crew were on (shore) leave, doing favors for the Iconoclasts. They hadn’t told her what exactly they were doing, but that was fine. It wasn’t like May could keep a secret.

“Finally,” the unspoken ‘took you long enough’ was noted “Now, the next step of my plan begins.”

“What’s your plan, exactly?” May remembered her poor memory “Blackmail yourself back onto the Board?”

“That’s the gist of it, yes,” he nodded “That way, I can promote my improvements to the other companies and improve everyone’s productivity!”

“I don’t think they’re gonna listen,” May shook her head “Everyone is so set in their ways at this time. In this time? Whatever. Besides, wouldn’t disagreeing be heretical?”’

“Technically, my innovations aren’t in conflict with the tenets of Scientism,” said Sanjar “Although that won’t stop the Order from declaring me a heretic if they so please.”

“To think that this sham cult is a little under a hundred years old and has already gained control over an entire star system,” May sighed “My friend Ann told me all about how Scientism started as a religious movement. Some middle-manager had a ‘spiritual revelation’. His higher-ups really liked the revelation, because he was almost immediately promoted. After that, several companies began endorsing this new faith, among them - would you believe it - were Rizzo’s and UDL. Those who converted were viewed favorably by their superiors. Those who were accepted onto the Groundbreaker were almost entirely believers.

Did you know why there were so many people on the Hope unaffiliated with any corporation? Because there were rumors - rumors that the Halcyon Colony was meant to be a cult, full of gullible and helpless workers, to line the pockets of high executives there and back on Earth. In order to disprove those claims, the second ship was to be filled with volunteers who had passed the test. The test was arbitrary. It didn’t determine anything. Only the people deemed valuable or harmless were allowed on. Only those deemed easily convertable were spirited away, just to be left forever drifting in the void.”

“You seem to know much more than you should. Where did you gather all of this information, if I might ask?” Sanjar sounded sceptical, but he leaned forward, seemingly interested.

The secretary (Clivia, was it? No, Celia) rolled her eyes, clearly very fond of the captain.

“Those were the so-called conspiracy theories, posited by folk back on Earth. Me and my buddies laughed at them then, but who’s laughing now?” May paused for a moment, attempting to get her bearings “I should’ve listened. I should’ve told my friend to listen. Now I’m- we’re all stuck here.”

“And you told me once that your mission was secret,” his eyebrows quirked up.

“One does not simply dethaw a random lab assistant - not to mention junkie - and expect her to fulfill your secret plan,” spat the captain “Oh wait- I, uh, just dug myself to the graveyard.”

This was precisely the point at which Celia had enough of the crazy captain and her weirdness.

“I should copy those,” she excused herself.

“Sure thing, Celia,” Sanjar waved her off, then smiled at May “You have provided me with all the blackmail I could ever need to coerce you. Even when exiled from the Board and confined on Monarch, I can still inform everyone about the true fate of the Hope. Pity no one will believe me, though.”

“Yeah, you’ll probably be seen as a loon if you tried,” she gulped, feeling pins and needles on her legs.

“Though, I wonder, why didn’t the ship arrive? You seem to be leaving out that detail,” he noticed.

“The skip drive malfunctioned and the ship was forced to complete its journey at sub-light speeds, or so I’ve been told,” May recalled “I don’t know if I believe that myself, but I haven’t exactly asked around.”

“Or the ship and, therefore, all the dissidents could’ve been deliberately sabotaged,” he speculated “Do you think the rest will be revived?”

“That’s what I’m working to accomplish, yes,” the woman nodded “Speaking of my goals, can I request a favor?”

“I’m listening,” Sanjar pulled out a blank form.

“I need the ideological transmissions to stop. For a time, at least,” May requested “I need some sensitive information sent to my employer.”

“Very well, that won’t cost much. How long do you think it’ll take?” he agreed surprisingly quickly.

“Just as soon as I can get the Iconoclasts to also stop broadcasting,” said May “and pay a visit to the Information Broker.”

“Good luck with that,” he didn’t seem to believe in her capabilities outside of killing “On my part, you have two weeks.”

“Thanks,” said May, her smile widening even though the laws of physics were supposed to forbid that.

“It’s the least I can do for you,” Sanjar assured her “Fighting crime is something you’re suited to do.”

“And something you’re very bad at managing,” May noted “Seems to me like you’re better at numbers than people.”

“Well, I am- was, for the longest time - the last one standing,” he sighed “The rest were at Amber Heights.”

“You’ve been doing fine for ruling over a dilapidated shantytown in the middle of nowhere,” May tried to reassure him “I’m convinced that the most precious resource in Stellar Bay is the algae in the pond.”

“The bay,” Sanjar corrected “You don’t like the saltuna? It’s composed of genuine fish! Well, at least twenty percent of it.”

At that, May head-desked.

(ow!)  
(what were you thinking?!)

She felt up her head and discovered that there was now a large crack running down her helm.

(!!!!!)  
(CALM DOWN it’s not showing anything)

Helmet vs table, round one: the table had clearly claimed this victory.

“What are you doing?” he sounded concerned.

“Testing the structural integrity of your table,” May answered “It’s way too sturdy for a piece of furniture.”

“Of course,” he took that as praise “The manufacturing standards for Monarch Stellar Industries are the highest in Halcyon!”

“I can see that,” May rubbed her head (well, helmet) “Is my face visible?”

“Er, not really,” Sanjar turned his head “Just a little sliver of that lovely smile.”

May put a hand over the lower part of her face (well, helmet) (same thing anyway) “You’re not very good at flattery. I know how horrible my face is.”

“I know,” he frowned slightly “Just in Monarch Stellar itself, I’m only fifty-second best. Was, until recently. I can’t believe it’s been twelve years . . .”

“I can’t believe it’s been seventy years,” said May “I’m six decades behind schedule. Everyone I once knew is dead or missing. I have no idea how I’m still alive or what happened during the gap. I’m damaged from extended cryosleep. I can never show my face again. I’m forced to work for- if I want to see my brother and aunt ever again. My home is so far . . .”

Those words were long in the making. May had thought that blurting them out would ease her burden, but Sanjar’s shocked reaction made her feel even worse. The man blinked, staring blankly right through May.

“Sorry,” she put both hands over her head “You have many things to deal with already- I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s quite alright,” he managed a slight smile “I’ve heard far worse over the years. But please, do get clean. I can’t exactly ally myself with a junkie. Who knows, I may start regretting my favor for you if something unfortunate happens.”

“Just as soon as I finish my assignment,” promised the captain “Take care.”

“Farewell, captain,” he sounded genuinely relieved that she was going.

But getting clean were just empty words. Going to rehab was just a futile promise. The sooner the time to take action became, the more May felt the pit in her stomach inhabited by anxiety. It was so easy to lie to oneself, to continue spiraling out of control, while convincing everyone that this was the last inhale, the last batch of gravel and cleaning solvent, that things were alright, that one could - would - go and fix things soon, very soon. One just needed to be patient, to wait a little until the right time came. Right now, rehab just wasn’t an option.

As time marched ever onwards, the time of promises and proclamations drew to a close. The time of action was at hand- would be at hand. Soon. So very soon. When that time came, would May lay down the inhaler and endure hell again? This time, there was no Anastasiya to come around and banter meaninglessly about chemical elements and brain tumors (come to think of it, was the sleep deprivation from the drugs or a brain tumor?). This time there were no overly-concerned-sounding-yet-strangely-ignorant foster parents to pay for everything, especially the good stuff.

May simply couldn’t fathom being thrown into a cell for two weeks, alone with the dark emptiness. With the ravenous, insatiable hunger. With the endless, unquenchable thirst. Once had been enough. May had always known the darkness, ever since she could remember herself. She had lain in the wet and mossy grass, the feeling gone from her limbs, mouth dry and barren, stomach a gaping hole and stared down the unfathomable emptiness, the place in her life where friends, family, love, hobbies, schedules, plans, everything should’ve been. She was part of the darkness, forever aloof among her kind. Whether that was from birth or from trauma she didn’t know. Never would.

But she feared the emptiness. Feared its inevitability, its inescapability. Feared the void left behind when every joy, every luxury, every thing worth living was taken away. May couldn’t save herself from the void. Only another, a being outside of her mind, her control, her comprehension could save her from the abyss that was in and around her. But May knew - had always known - that humans were monsters. The only member of this species who had actually been there when needed had been Ann. Now Ann was gone, at least for the moment and May wasn’t sure if she could trust her comrades even with the knowledge of the emptiness, not even with being there for her.

Besides, she hadn’t done anything to earn their allegiance, only ruined their lives further.

Continuing to degrade was no solution, but was rehab really the answer?

Perhaps not.

Perhaps May had an easier way out.

One involving razors.


	31. Into that good night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for suicide and self harm!
> 
> This is probably the darkest chapter I've ever written, and I've written death and rape scenes.

May stuffed the combat knife of one Alex Hawthorne into her boot (thanks, ghost of previous captain!). She couldn’t do anything on the ship - ADA was watching. She didn’t want to make the robot witness the death of her second captain. That would just be cruel. She also couldn’t do anything in town - she didn’t want the people finding her. She didn’t want to force Hakim or Grimm to drag her to the crematorium like those criminals. She also didn’t want her friends finding her. They would, eventually, but that was inevitable. That was fine. They could deal with that.

While the crew were still busy, May trekked out into the wilderness. She waved cheerfully to the guards at the gates and one waved back (is that Grimm? Hi buddy!). She found a rocky outcropping, not too high (those damn cliffs) for her to lay down on.

May placed her helmet down next to her. She deliberated leaving it on, but not having it get in the way was easier. Then she removed the shoddy neck brace. She deliberated leaving it on - the hole in the back was certainly more than enough to get things done, but it was easier without it.

May fiddled with her boot until she got out the knife and turned her destroyed true face towards the stars. She wondered which one of them was the Sun. Would she see it again? Would she see the Earth again? May turned the blade towards her neck artery, as if opening a can of pineapple with a screwdriver.

She could feel the unfeeling tip of metal against her frail flesh. She could decide her own fate. She could be free from being the plaything of a malicious, sadistic universe. She could see her home again. She could be with HAM. She could see every star and every galaxy and every void in the universe. She could end all suffering ever to be endured by her.

(do I have to say something?)

(of course I don’t)

(silence is golden)

May’s hand faltered and the knife fell to the ground.

What if there was no warmth, no joy, no happiness in death? What if there was just a blank abyss, a vast emptiness, a hole where consciousness once was? What if death was exactly the kind of void May sought to escape from?

May pushed those doubts aside, ignoring the shiver up her back and the nausea in her stomach. In that case, she wouldn’t be around to feel any pain. She brought the knife closer, almost sensing its cold finality even before it could slash her neck.

May found that she couldn’t push it closer. Indecision gripped her, a final, agonizing desire to reconsider, to find something worth living for. But she wasn’t spineless and cowardly. She could make a decision and stick to her guns. She could see it through. Yet still, her fingers wouldn’t budge. She had committed so much. She had to do what she had set out to. She couldn’t jsut give up.

(coward! The void could never kill you, but your fear of it can?!)

(spineless wimp! Why did you waste so much time on this set-up, this plan?! It is better to end things now, before any more undue suffering!)

May thought of her friends. They would undoubtedly blame themselves. She should’ve written a note of apology, but she didn’t have anything to write with (or on, for that matter). If she went back, her opportunity would already be gone. She didn’t want to be intercepted. What about Sanjar? He would think his words - final words - to May caused her demise, even though that was objectively wrong. But insecurity was fundamentally irrational, as May could attest to. And the guards who had let her go to her doom? What would they feel like?

She curled up on the dusty ground, matted and tangled hair hanging down her disfigured visage. A bubble of nauseous anxiety grew in her stomach, a stab of fear flashed in her chest. She held the knife in her hands, fingers digging into the leather handle. It was both her salvation and damnation. She was so alone- she needed a few inhales. A few inhales and she was fine. But the inhales made her so sick, she had to find other mechanisms of coping- but how? She couldn’t remember what she did before. How much had she forgotten?

She couldn’t betray her friends- she couldn’t be like her mother. She couldn’t be like dad’s killers. She couldn’t betray Ann and Nate, she was their only chance, their shining light in the darkness. She had to save them- if she was revived, so could they. She was a scientist, she could figure something out if she found the formulas.

But Ann and Nate could be dead, floating throught the nameless void of space. And her friends hadn’t been there when she had lost face, they weren’t here now, they wouldn’t be here. They just wanted her ship and a ticket to the stars. ADA wouldn’t bat an eye. Ellie was all lined up to be the third captain, Parvati had her sweetheart and Felix had his commie friends. They had gotten everything they needed from May, everything she could offer. What else could they possibly gain from keeping her around?

Halcyon was a horrible, horrible place. Best to give up on it and leave prematurely. Why had she ever thought it a good idea to leave humanity’s cradle? There was nothing but emptiness between the far-off stars that sure as hell didn’t shine for her.

May’s throat constricted, squeezing shut no matter how much she gasped. Her breaths were uneven and her head felt so light, like a balloon. Thoughts raced through her mind like frenzied wolves, snarling, biting.

May was so alone, so empty without the powdered mist to clog her up, to stop the gears from spinning out of control. She took the knife in shaking hands, pointing it at her throat.

The knife slipped in her light fingers, clattering onto the ground. May put her hands over her face, feeling the smile, the awful, infernal smile. She couldn’t live with a face like that. She couldn’t even look in the mirror, what would everyone think? The grimace was stretched taut, like it was etched in stone or set onto dead flesh. She was a monster and she looked like one. Had she always been doomed to become this subhuman creature, hunched in the dirt and dust, eyes wild and unfocused, hands clumsy and unwieldy, face contorted into an animalistic snarl? Why did the universe hate her so? What had she done wrong? Could she fix it?

The night was quiet, the loneliness encroaching emptily from all directions. She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t be alone. Even death was preferable to . . . this. To losing control of everything, face, fingers, mind, body, thoughts, feelings, plans. To being utterly alone, overcome with a burning desire that stamped out any voice of reason.

May tried to plunge the knife into herself, into her throat, into her heart, anything, but it simply slipped in her fingers, cutting the insignificant flesh. She stabbed at the air again, heart pumping like there was no tomorrow, racing breaths barely scraping past taut lips. The knife rolled in her hands, sharp and blunt edges alike leaving marks in dirt and blood. Dust clung to her hair and to her armor, crawling along one cheek that was pressed to the alien earth.

She wanted to scream. Wanted to sob out everything she had seen and heard in her life, of which there was too much to even begin describing. Wanted to beat her head against the solid ground because there was too much too fast and enormous things bounced around inside her, pent up, waiting to spill like dragonfire. Wanted to bend and twist her joints until they snapped, like her, because the supercharged feelings demanded escape. Yet her body stayed still, like a doll in the hands of fate.

With a strangled cry, May rammed her mangled hand into the earth, the too-soft earth. It felt like nothing and she stood up on her knees, ramming her fingers into the soil, again and again, until they were bent and twisted things, bloody and battered but still not broken. She slammed her head against the warm surface, until sparks danced in her field of vision, until the dizziness overtook the racing, rancid thoughts, until she felt like she was submerged underwater, the way her vision blurred, at least.

She snarled and spat at the ground besides her, weakly punting her foot against the soil. She writhed like a rat in a mousetrap, like a snake caught in shed skin. The earth was too soft and she was too tired. But the feelings had merged into one all-consuming, hungry anger, a rage that desired pain and suffering. It didn’t matter from whom or from where, it wanted brutal injury.

The knife was completely forgotten, discarded on the ground like rubbish, like the memory of the first captain. With renewed vigor, May sprang forth, slamming her fingers into the earth, pressing and pushing on her index finger, grinding with all her might, until it snapped and a great pressure was released. It throbbed and burned, contorted like a dead worm, but May put her weight on the next finger. There was no release from the hatred that gripped her, it demanded more, more, MORE, it wanted to be expunged into the world around it, to escape the confines of a single mortal body. Another finger bent and cracked, slowly sagging as yet another was put in its place. The dizziness cleared slightly and May banged her head against the soil a few more times, stars flickering in her vision, skull aching. A pebble split open the skin on her head, yet she wanted more, more MORE, MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE.

But her tired limbs wouldn’t rise to the occasion and her head throbbed and pulsed, eyes blinking harshly, outlined with dust. Her nose was bent, gushing blood like a broken faucet. She was still, barely seeing the black of the sky and the orange-brown of the earth. She couldn’t remember why she was here or who she was, for that matter, but she felt weary, so weary, like a concrete slab was pressing her down into the dirt. Her head was filled with syrup, thick and viscous, swimming and rocking, vision blurring together periodically.

She disappeared into the dark night, melting into the cold aether. It was like a pool of stagnant, rotting water, full of soft algae and fleshy carcasses. It was the mind of a marauder, turned upon itself in the absence of drugs. Every fear and insecurity dug out of its grave, ablaze in anger, ready to kill and make pain. It was like diving into warm, viscous concrete, only for it to harden and trap you under forever.

Fortunately for May, she wasn’t quite under. She hadn’t waded into the still, deep waters, hadn’t let the cement cool. She woke under a starry night sky, like the one she used to sleep to as a child, but indescribably different. She blinked at it, eyes straining to make out individual blips of light, but not ignorant of the shadows.

She felt content. Peaceful. She had doled out an appropriate amount of violence. And anyway, fatigue tended to make one complacent. There was a quiet, aching longing in her heart, a desire for the inhaler’s kiss. May sat up, then stood, unnaturally and stiffly upon her fatigued legs, stumbling off into the distance.

She walked, sometimes falling and crawling on all fours until she saw the sign, still lit up even in this hour of the morning. The lone guard let her through, his helmeted face following her as she passed. Her arms hung on her sides like cloth draperies, her eyelids drooped. A tangle of thick black hair formed a curtain along her forehead and cheek. Old wounds itched either from healing or infection. Her right foot was painfully stiff and rigid, near-ancient sutures and missing flesh searing.

May gasped silently, heaving in air through her scratchy throat (strange - she didn’t remember screaming at all). She stumbled and fell on a side street, just as dusty as the wilderness. She lay face-first in the dirt, nose groaning in protest, throat tingling as she sucked in whatever she could, air and dust alike.

Eventually, she propped herself up on her elbows and stood up, hobbling on one foot. The other touched the ground only briefly, blazing with sparks of outrage any time it was forced to do so.

Then she saw a figure. A lone figure in the desolate and barren streets of a ghost town. She didn’t know who that was, but something told her it was a friend - family. Her senses guided her to the shape, which approached with a rushed inevitability. The person collided with her, seemingly on purpose and she was caught within their arms.

(Betty?)

“Who did this to you?” calloused fingers with bitten nails brushed strands of hair out of her face.

May put her bruised arm and broken fingers around his back, mimicking the gesture. She had nothing to say - she couldn’t even quite register that she was injured.

“You’ll be a-okay as soon as Ellie returns,” Felix whispered as he awkwardly gathered her into his arms.

May looked right past him with unblinking eyes and an unfailing smile.

She had chosen the right crew.


	32. Road to recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♦️ is the symbol for the currency of Halcyon, the bit. Well, at least that's what I use for it.
> 
> Autism trivia: you can be autistic and extroverted. You can be autistic and an attention whore. You can be autistic and desperately crave human contact. This is the case with me: I suffer from loneliness, but I get physically sick when I spend too much time around people and I don't know how to socialize. My personality is literally conflicting and this is what I envision May as being too.

May woke up in her cabin, feeling the presence of the inhaler near her. She tried to move, but her broken fingers poked against the rocky mattress and she let out a shuddering sigh. She didn’t know how she ended up there - her head was strangely fuzzy and comfortably empty.

May scanned the room with her blurry eyes, feeling stiffness in her neck and an ache in her nose. Idly, she wondered what had happened. Where was the inhaler? Where was it? Where had she put it? Where was it?! She had to- needed to-

Then May realized she was bound. Fire flared inside her - how dare they? She wanted her inhaler and she wanted it NOW! Sh trashed in her binds, but her limbs were weary and fatigued. She wanted to release the anger from her bones, whether onto herself or someone else. She couldn’t be alone- she had to have her inhaler, had to! Why couldn’t she? Why did the universe hate her so? Why did her crew - her self-professed friends - hate her so?

She needed- needed her inhalants, she was going to die, die, perish without them, wither like a plant without water! She had to be nourished, she couldn’t just dry out! Her limbs shook with pent-up rage, they trembled helplessly like twigs in the wind, covered in cold sweat, dusty residue still clinging to them.

She couldn’t die. She had to find the inhaler before-before all her life left her, before she was just a desiccated husk thrown into the void of space. She couldn’t die! Why were they killing her?! Betty failed, she couldn’t succeed! She was dead!

But the shadow in the far corner of the starlit window grinned back at her, still wearing her frilly pink dress.

“.....!!!” May moved back, cold sweat on her shoulder blades.

“So mommy and daddy threw you out into this hole,” she smiled, white and yellowed teeth glinting “How’s it feel, May? I lived out my life in peace and prosperity, while you’re always doomed to rot.”

The captain tried to cover her ears, but her arms were bound too tightly

“A little tied up, shitface?” Betty moved closer, studying her adoptive sister “They all want plausible deniability. They can’t kill you outright, so they’ll leave you to suffer.”

“.....!” May bumped her head against the wall and splashes of red flashed in her eyes “!!.........”

“Oh how the tables haven’t turned,” she smirked smugly “You’re still the same, still desperately clinging to anyone who so much as looks at you without hatred. But evil isn’t one big happy family. Surprised? You shouldn’t be. It’s only natural for fellow creatures of the dark to betray you.”

May shook her head - she had picked the right crew. The only crew she could . . . they weren’t evil. They would come- they hadn’t bound her, that was impossible, was this even the Unre- yes it was, where was everyone?! She couldn’t be alone, or with Betty, or bound, what happened- something must’ve happened . . . they all just wanted the ship for themselves, didn’t they? Her ship. It belonged to her. She found it. She found it! She found it first! It was hers! Hers! Her ship!

“Stealing now, dear sister?” Betty was still there, still smirking like she was superior, like she was strong and May was weak. Was May weak? She wasn’t. She wasn’t! She could fight!

“Can’t escape me now,” Betty floated (or walked. May failed to see the difference) “Alex is watching. He wants your blood too. Dad is watching. Mom is watching. Let the show begin.”

Idly, May wondered since when had Betty become so cheesy. Maybe it came with being a ghost? Was undeath fun? For a sadist?

Idly, May realized she probably shouldn’t be pondering that with a murderous, bloodthirsty ghost advancing towards her. The defunct captain tried to move out of the way, but her limbs were numb and tingly and she felt so weak she could faint any minute now. Why was that? Why couldn’t she have her inhaler? Why not?! She had to find it. Had to. Had to! Who stole it? Who?! It was hers! Hers. She needed it.

Betty moved to sit on the bed, her gait slightly off. She smiled. May opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Betty couldn’t. She couldn’t! Why was she here? She was dead. Dead. Dead! May saw that!

“Murderer,” growled the girl, still a child, deceptively innocent “I knew you would kill us all, but did mom and dad listen? Did your friends know that? Will Nate and Ann ever know now? Will Parvati, Ellie, Felix and ADA know before it’s too late?”

(don’t you dare DON’T YOU DARE)

“You killed your mother first thing in your life,” spat Betty, hovering over May “She threw you out, because she didn’t want to die as collateral damage from your curse. Then you were found and she died in jail. Poor HAM. He never knew what hit him. He couldn’t enjoy his newfound sapience. He found a kid, a cursed kid and that was it for him.”

May drew in shallow breaths, feeling a cold, dead weight on her chest. She heaved in air, but it was dead too, it wouldn’t sustain her. Everything she did just served to kill her faster. Clammy fingers dug into the sheets, gripping linen like their existence depended on it. There was no safety anywhere, not when Betty was involved. The girl sat on May’s chest, seeming so small and light, with thin spindly limbs like those of a spider. But in her eyes was the same gleam that never changed, that desire to create suffering, that desire to strike out against an evil and unrepentant enemy, to drive home that the power of the enemy meant nothing to the fighter for justice.

“Why couldn’t you have stayed in your jungle, dirt?” Betty breathed onto May’s face, smelling of Rizzo’s liqueur candy, which was discontinued in Halcyon.

“.......!” silently screamed May, begging, pleading for someone - anyone - to take her away, to stop stop stop Betty.

Were her crew like Betty’s parents, ignorant and willfully blind to injustice? Would they ignore May’s plight, her cries for help, her loneliness, leave her in the dark, alone with the abyss?

“!!!!” May felt a dizzyingly familiar pressure on her windpipe, pressing, pushing, making all the bile collect in her throat, blocking the air, sucking out the life from her.

Betty didn’t smile, her limbs were taut, her face was serious, straining to hold shut May’s windpipe. May wanted to scream, wanted to do something - anything - to die fighting, not laying helplessly in her own bed, but her limbs were so heavy, her back was so hot and sweaty, her face was so stretched and achy. What could she do? Lie back and think of home, that was all. But she couldn’t die- couldn’t! Something had to happen! Someone had to stop Betty!

The apparition faded away like the hallucination it was and May was left to stare at a very shocked Parvati.

“Your face- captain, what did you do?” she whispered.

May stared back, feeling the skin and muscle shift and stretch to accommodate the shock. Cells peeled and flaked from her cheeks, withering under the force of the gaze, she could feel that in her core. Death was Betty, but death was also everyone else, whether they realized that or not. She needed them to break the spell of the abyss, to relieve the pressure of the void on her mind, but they were damnation, they were beyond her, beyond her control, dangerous and exhausting.

(stop looking stop stop stop stopstopstopstopstopstopstopstopstopstopstopstopSTOPSTOP)

“Sorry,” Parvati looked away for a change “Guess I know why you’ve been wearin’ the helmet recently.”

May scanned the room with her blurry gaze, but found no inhaler.

“We’re gonna fix you right up,” said the mechanic, trying to reassure both herself and her captain “We’ve got enough to pay for rehab. You’ll get a new helmet soon. You, um, don’t look that bad.”

“You don’t look that bad,” Parvati repeated, while trying her damnedest to not look at May “Would you like to eat? Some water, maybe?”

She waited patiently for May to mouth “Wat’r . . . lots.”

“By your orders, captain,” said Parvati and fled the room.

May buried her face in the sheets, her fingers twitching from stress and craving. She couldn’t live with a face like hers. It was not okay. It would never be okay. It was wrong. She was wrong. She wanted her inhaler. She wanted to forget and to go blind and to forever hide in the darkness, away from the piercing light, away from the prying eyes, where freaks like her were supposed to be.

Parvati came in with Ellie and a large mug of water.

May grabbed the cup, sloshing a lot onto herself, Parvati and the floor. She gulped it down greedily, then set the mug down upside down onto the sheets.

“Aw come on!” Ellie squawked “She spilled all this water, but didn’t drop the damn cup! Oh dear, now I have to watch Terror on Monarch with Felix! All twelve episodes! Can you believe that?”

“Yes,” Parvati made the mistake of responding to a rhetorical question “Next time, maybe bet a little less? Would you need anything else, captain?”

May tapped her hand over her face, all remaining strength spent on holding the cup.

“Your helmet?” guessed Parvati “Um, you lost it. I think.”

May tapped more insistently on the lower part of her face.

“No, I can’t give you the inhaler,” Parvati shook her head “I’ve stood idly by while you’ve destroyed yourself for far too long. Also, we’re selling your mace. Sorry, I know you like it.”

“Genuine relic from the wilds of Monarch!” smirked Ellie, doing her best saleswoman impression “Imagine the ♦️♦️profit♦️♦️!”

“......” grumbled May, feeling hot betrayal all over her skin. If she were a little less tired, she would’ve done something about it. Why couldn’t they understand?!

She pulled the sheet over her head. It was slightly wet. Whoops.

“Don’t fret, captain,” reassured her Ellie “Do you really think your face’s that bad? Come on, I’ve seen way worse on my job! You just need some Botox.”

“Botox?” Parvati stared at her.

“?” said May.

“Well, you are ninety-three, captain,” smiled the medic “Can’t outrun your age for long. All Botox does is paralyze your muscles. It’s also poison in large amounts, but don’t worry, it’s a tried and true method. Your face really needs to chill out and stop twitching every twenty seconds. And if there’s something you need right now, it’s to relax.”

“.....” said May, the sheet still over her face.

“This is normal for a recovering junkie,” Ellie reassured Parvati “She’ll be right as rain in, hm, two months. If she doesn’t croak beforehand.”

“That doesn’t sound so good . . .” said Parvati “We better hope we get to the Groundbreaker in time, then.”

The inhaler wasn’t there. It wasn’t there. It was missing. Missing along with it were several shards of May, most importantly her security and peace of mind.


	33. A bastard's place

“What about the radio silence May negotiated?” Felix asked his buddies “And that favor for the Iconoclasts?”

“We can set out while the captain is in rehab,” said Ellie, distractedly watching the Groundbreaker grow larger in the distance “But someone should stay behind to keep an eye on her.”

“Not me,” the man shivered at the thought of returning to his old room - no, corner - filthy bedroll and cruel supervisor, or of so much as seeing any of that ever again.

“Of course not you, I wasn’t even asking,” Ellie rolled her eyes. Well, Felix couldn’t actually see her face - but he was totally certain she did. The force of hre disdain was tangible.

“Maybe I could ask Jun to stay for a bit?” Parvati chewed her lip “I don’t know if she’d agree - maybe she’ll think I’m only in it for the money and the power? Or-”

“Calm down,” Ellie sighed “I’ll take a few jobs in the good old medical bay, no problem. I’m more worried of letting you two go off into the sunset with my- our ship.”

“Did you just call me your ship?” ADA chimed in “What are you planning to do with the current captain? Hopefully you’ll drop her off alive, or would her death be more secure?”

“Oh my law, you can’t do that to May!” exclaimed Parvati.

“Um . . .” said Ellie “That was quite the slip of the tongue, no?”

“I’m not leaving you alone with May,” said Felix “To try and poison her with Bulltox or whatever.”

“Botox,” corrected the woman “That’s for later, when we get even richer. You can stay with me if you want to. Parvati, can you visit our friends on Monarch yourself?”

“I-I’m not that good at fighting- and anyway, I’m just a cannery engineer,” she stuttered “M-my stuff needs repairs too and I don’t h-have- can’t buy the parts.”

“We’re at an impass then,” Ellie finally turned around, nothing between Felix and her death glare “You don’t trust me with the captain, and I don’t trust a certain ‘master of demolition’ to not gruesomely die on Monarch. Any ideas, geniuses?”

“I . . . could stay with May?” Felix offered reluctantly “And . . . you and Parvati could go to the Info Broker?”

“Deal,” Ellie smirked “That was the first smart thing I’ve heard from you in . . . well, ever.”

Felix had no idea how to respond to this sudden praise.

The captain, for her part, played the part of “reanimated corpse” quite well. Despite it being midday, she looked like a hungover worker rising at 6 am to do hard physical labor for no pay. She could barely stand and awkwardly leaned onto Felix’s shoulder, feet shuffling like a zombie. Not a particularly fast zombie, but still.

“Hey, boss, have you ever thought of auditioning for an aetherwave serial?” he chatted to his incapacitated captain “I mean, most are made in Byzantium, but I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a gal whose niece films serials right here, on the Groundbreaker. It’s not a very big place.”

May moaned something in response, probably not even listening. She slumped onto his shoulder, smelling of sweat and grime.

“Man, you need to take a shower,” he continued talking, in the hope that it would make May feel less lonely “The Rest’n’Go has all the best showers. Shame they never let me in because I didn’t have money.”

May’s head bumped against his own, almost sending him faceplanting into the pavement (and possibly an early grave). The captain sure had some power behind her headbutts.

“See? She’s also bored,” Ellie chimed in.

“How could you betray me like that, boss?” Felix pretended to be deeply offended “And I thought we were friends!”

May mumbled something unintelligible sadly.

“Don’t let her take it the wrong way,” suggested the medic “Ah, my old workplace. Give the captain to me. I have a feeling you’re not welcome here.”

Felix opened his mouth to protest, then remembered the last time he was in the medical bay. He wordlessly handed over the barely conscious captain, who, for her part, was reluctant to leave her friend. Somehow, she had attatched to Felix with a clawed vice grip, while he had no idea. The captain, even in such a state, managed to be stealthy.

Felix waited outside as Ellie negotiated and haggled with the other doctors. He raked his memory, thinking if they had met before the captain’s arrival on the space station, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“All set,” Ellie approached him after what had seemed like an eternity “If you’d like to visit, you can do so from 9 am to 5 pm. I think they’ll let you in, at least for some time. Take the mace and sell it.”

“Thanks, I guess. Be back soon,” he held the weapon in his hands, deliberating giving it a few swings, but ultimately deciding against it. He didn’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention, especially in front of Ellie.

“Try not to die before I return,” she said before departing.

From her voice, it didn’t sound like she cared particularly about what happened to the captain if she was leaving him to look after her.

It seemed almost like she was leaving Felix and May here, getting rid of her most hated crewmember and captain in one fell swoop. The mace almost seemed like a gesture of goodwill to a defeated enemy, one who couldn’t fight back anymore, one who was irrelevant to the victor.

Felix swore with the most loaded profanity he knew. He should’ve known better. Now Ellie had her ship and her buddy, along with everything they needed. Sure, Parvati wouldn’t be okay with that, but Ellie could sway her so easily. Or get rid of her. Or kick her out.

What could he do now? He was pennyless on the street again, along with the captain who tried to help him. The captain who gave him the ticket to the stars, who made his dreams come true. Felix held May’s mace in his hands. He wasn’t a thinker, but now, with the captain neck deep in withdrawal, he had to think for two. He had to work for two, provide for two, protect not just himself, but May. If he sold the mace, how long would the money last? If the captain got clean, how long would she last, with drug dealers on every corner and inhalant stores opening like there was no tomorrow?

Felix didn’t want to think. He wanted to sell the mace and rent a room at the Rest’n’Go and maybe have a pint of beer in the bar and wink at a nice sexy girl and take a shower and a nap. He didn’t want to think of how he was betrayed, how he would have to see his supervisor (and the supervisor’s stick) again, how every time he thought things were going better - with Clyde, with May - everything was still the same in the end. Status quo was the architect of his life, it seemed. Felix wanted to break the wheel, upturn the social order - so did Clyde, so did (does, hopefully) May - but he was always stuck, rooted in the Back Bays, in that one dingy corner with a putrid bedroll (he could bet on his life that it had never been washed).

After flirting with the wrong woman (again), Felix, laying bloody and beaten in an alleyway considered that perhaps it was high time to cut down on the booze and the ladies, and to start thinking. He spat out some blood and left the thought to rot with the old bedroll.

The stars were always bright on the Groundbreaker, the sun always shining far, far away.

Felix found that he missed the sunsets and sunrises, the days and the nights of Monarch.

The skies which he had seen for his entire life suddenly seemed so dark and empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! A wild plot twist appears!
> 
> Martin Callahan appears shortly, hold your horses.


	34. Enter MoonMan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon that Parvati can be an absolute savage if pissed off enough.
> 
> Also, I have been converted to a fan of Martin Callahan by TransformersG1fan271. Blame them for the plot spiraling into a radically different direction. At this point, I might have to delete the Christmas Special altogether.

Four days. It was four days since Felix returned to his childhood home (and childhood trauma, but that was another matter entirely). He sat on the floor, next to the captain’s bed, trying to stop himself from staring at what had become of her face. May lay straight like a plank, open eyes staring emptily at the ceiling.

“There’s this nice hidey-hole next to waste disposal where I used to ambush people, back when I thought being a mugger was fashionable,” he regaled May with tales of his youth, while she stared straight ahead, as if he weren’t there at all “Alas, my career never took off. The first who walked buy was Michelle Contreras, who, like, had the biggest gun on the ship, at least back then. Everyone was talking about that.

Supposedly, she had illegally acquired a sniper rifle and then modified it with a silencer. Michelle herself always called the gun her ‘dick extention’. Yeah, best not think of that too hard, captain. Anyway, so she was walking by and I thought to myself: ‘sniper rifles are supposed to only work from a distance’. So, I jumped out from my hidey-hole and pointed a knife at her general direction. Michelle was taken by surprise, just as planned, and reached for her gun. ‘Gimme your bits! All of ‘em!’ I shouted, swinging the knife like the cool gangstas did in the movies.

Then Michelle proceeded to show me how a sniper rifle worked from close-range. She didn’t shoot me - then I’d probably be dead - no, she took it like a tossball stick and swung it at me! I limped to my bedroll with all kinds of bruises. Stars, it’s been a while since I’ve swapped stories with anyone! Man, I’m a great storyteller, don’t you think, boss?”

May looked at him, her gaze pointed somewhere on his shoulder, disproving his delusions of grandeur with one stern stare.

Well, at least Felix knew she was listening. She would be all healed up soon. And then he would have the pleasure of telling her that he had let Ellie steal her ship and Parvati with it, which was certainly just what a recovering addict needed to hear after getting out of rehab.

“Have I told you about the time I got stuck in Rizzo’s freezer?” he began, then proceeded to have a (spiritual) revelation “Oh shhhhhhackle, visiting time’s over. Please don’t die while I’m away, boss. I mean, not that you dying in my arms is much better . . . yeah, boss, please don’t die anytime soon. I know you’re a rebel and all that, but maybe try following orders for a while?”

May looked back at the ceiling, finding nothing interesting in the human form. Felix could understand - he was clothed, after all. The naked human form was far more visually appealing, or so Felix thought.

He stepped out of the medical bay and observed the sky, then glanced at one of the many digital and neon clocks to glean the time. Just over midday - although nothing hardly changed on the ship with the passage of day and night. Just more people choose to sleep during the designated night period. The ship didn’t really rotate around itself (at least not like a planet would), so days were pure conjecture.

Felix felt the mace on his belt. He didn’t want to sell it - not because the captain really liked it, but because it was actually way better a weapon than his tossball stick (maybe it ought to have occurred to him earlier that things actually meant as weapons were more effective at killing than sports equipment, but Felix wasn’t much of a thinker). But, alas, he wasn’t partial to starving.

The first shop that Felix found was the Spacer’s Choice one. He remembered how he had made fun of the corporate goon at the counter. Felix regretted nothing, of course, but he wasn’t going to be surprised if his “genuine vortex mace” was going to be refused.

“It seems that you have made the smart choice: Spacer’s Choice **™** ,” despite the full-face helmet, Martin Callahan turned out to be very perceptive “What might I interest you in today, novice spacer?”

“Actually, I was looking to sell this,” he planted the mace onto the counter “A genuine weapon of the savages on Monarch, repurpoced from the time when it was manufactured by the company! Scavenged from the lair of the native chieftain Porkmaker!”

“120 bits,” said Martin “I cannot sell products not recommended by Spacer’s Choice **™** , however, my superiors could smelt the weapon down.”

“So little?” Felix frowned “In that case, I could sell it to Back Bay Films as a genuine prop from the lost world!”

“150 bits,” said the merchant “I cannot allow business to flow to another company! Spacer’s Choice **™** is the only option for the discerning spacer, both in terms of price and utility!”

“Fine,” Felix accepted the money “It’s not the only choice to stick this mace up your ass, but it’s Spacer’s Choice.”

“The only thing going in my ass would be the shaft of a Spacer’s Choice **™** tri-blade,” declined the seller “With a smidge of Spacer’s Motor Oil and Lube **™** ! Otherwise, that would be outside of company specifications for the rectum.”

Felix gagged.

“A pleasure doing business with the discerning spacer,” Martin’s smile was tangible, even when not visible “May your aim be true and your pistol not explode.”

“Thanks, I guess,” said Felix and quickly fled with his money. In hindsight, Martin was just as much of a brainwashed corporate goon as Felix expected, but somewhat nicer.

Felix skipped down the paved roads that were once hallways of a colony ship and wondered how similar the Hope was to the Groundbreaker. Of course, the abandoned ship didn’t have the extra layers of houses and shops, nor the bright neon lighting, but certainly the layout would be similar?

Felix had no way of finding out, short of visiting the Hope itself. And he would, if the very existence of his captain was any indication. Well, he hoped so. The more he thought about the future, the darker it seemed.

While walking and mentally counting his bits, a bright idea occured to Felix. He was no longer the scrawny kid he once was - he wielded a looted grenade launcher, for fuck’s sake (the inkling that using a grenade gun in a tight, cramped space wasn’t such a good idea never ocurred to him, but, hey, Felix wasn’t a thinker). He crawled into a little hidey-hole, whether the same one or not, feeling slightly cramped (it never ocurred to him that maybe he had grown too large to fit, but, hey, Felix wasn’t one of those ‘intellectual’ types, he was always more of a doer).

Then Felix waited.

And waited.

And waited.

For some reason, people didn’t seem particularly inclined to prowl this desolate strip of hallway.

Felix had no idea why.

Perhaps, if he were a bit smarter, he would’ve realized that the large “BELONG’S TO RAČEL’S GANG’S” sign in front of the passage would dissuade most sane people from entering.

Then again, Felix wasn’t one of those Board-owned “intellectuals”.

He wasn’t particularly sane either.

And he had grown up among criminals, after all.

Eventually, of course, Felix saw other people. They were armed and armored, however, the equipment had clearly been purchased from “the spacer’s most affordable choice!”. As such, Felix felt he had nothing to fear.

“Hand over those bits, y’all,” he squeezed out of the gap in the wall and waved his explosive weapon around “Or I could press this trigger here and you’ll witness the stars in their true glory.”

The man and three women stared at him, open-mouthed. One even literally.

“What do we do, boss?” asked one lady to another.

“KILL THIS CUNT!” bellowed Račel and took aim.

“Woah there now, my fair lady-” began Felix as his gun jammed.

Her trigger finger was quicker and Felix suddenly found himself with a hole in his left arm. He sputtered in surprise (at his plot armor failing) and took off running. The maniacs made no motion to pursue him. He wondered why not.

“Aha!” a mardet noticed him “Finally, a thug from Račel’s gang!”

“Wait, what?” Felix thought of something to say, but his mind was blank and his arm was bleeding and there was a lot of blood why was there so much blood.

“Surrender now or face THE LAW!” exclaimed the guardian of justice dramatically.

Felix bolted on instinct. He had tried to rob a gang, but surely that didn’t make him a criminal? Not that the mardets cared for his guilt or innocence. He had no idea where he was going, his head feeling like it was soft and stuffed full of wool. His arm also felt very slippery, like a raptidon or one of those fabled saltuna monsters.

He ran across the ramps and sidewalks, barely avoiding bumping into the scattered stragglers as they tried to clear from his path. At least that way, the guards didn’t shoot, not with all the people inbetween. As Felix skidded alongside a shop counter, he felt something tug upon his sleeve. Without so much as a thought, the man followed the motion.

Felix stumbled backwards into Martin Callahan’s humble abode and was quite literally stuffed into a closet. Felix opened his mouth to express surprise, but Martin put a finger to his helmet, closed the door and returned to his counter as if nothing had happened.

Felix rubbed his arm, wondering why his red jacket was suddenly much darker in color. And why he felt like his legs were jelly incapable of holding his weight.

Come to think of it, Felix felt like taking a nap.

Ellie was free as she walked into Amber Heights, only Parvati accompanying her. The captain was far away and Ellie no longer had any obligation to the loathsome spacer. If Parvati started asking questions and causing problems, well, the engineer could be easily dealt with. Shame if it came to that, though. She was a pretty sweet girl, especially with her special connection to Junlei Tennyson. Who knows how Ellie could use that in the future?

Predictably, the rebel alliance was less than pleased to hear that their supplier in Stellar Bay was closing off their business deal. If Ellie wanted to speak her mind, she would’ve suggested doing something already. The Iconoclasts and MSI had spent a decade in cold war, confined to the empty shell of what was once going to be the first and finest colony in Halcyon. Shame what happened to it. Maybe if the other half of the terraformers had arrived on time . . .

Ah yes, the lost Hope. Ellie wondered how the late arrival of tens of thousands - maybe even hundreds of thousands - of new colonists would change the star system forever. Nothing good would come of it, she was sure. Food and water prices had been rising for years, and it wasn’t nostalgia that told her Spacer’s Choice cuisine had been better before. Halcyon wasn’t equipped to handle such a surplus. And that was if Phineas was actually looking to revive the colonists. Perhaps he just needed a gullible newcomer with an unshakeable obligation to do his dirty work.

“Ellie,” Parvati abruptly ended her ruminations “We should ask about the, um, radio silence.”

The third captain of the Unreliable paused.

“Of course,” she nodded “Let’s ask Blackwood. I’d rather not hear any more of the usual blabbering about religion and enlightenment and spiritual freedom.”

“Me too,” agreed the engineer “Graham Bryant is . . . nice, I suppose, but he’s a bit overwhelming.”

“Where is your captain, if I might ask?” was the first thing Zora said upon sighting them “I didn’t expect her to be replaced so soon.”

“Uh,” said Ellie, uncomfortableness around her like Aramid Ballistics armor (you won’t live long enough to get a refund from anyone else. Buy Aramid!) “She’s in rehab. I’m acting in her stead.”

“Hmph,” Zora was clearly unconvinced “I’m afraid I have no more work for you.”

“Actually, I- well, the captain wanted to ask for a favor,” Ellie got a bad feeling, like she would seriously regret asking “We want radio silence. The captain needs some information transmitted to her employer from the information broker.”

“Very well. I will ask Graham, but I can only guarantee a week,” she agreed surprisingly quickly “I hope, for the captain’s sake as well as yours that you are really doing this on her behalf. I don’t care about your ideology, but I will not ally with a traitor and thief.”

“Of course,” Ellie considered bowing for extra sarcasm “Thank you for your gracious support.”

“I know incincere flattery when I hear it,” Zora was not impressed.

Ellie exited with due haste, Parvati trailing behind her. In truth, the new captain was simply looking to bluff everyone, at least for a time. She had no intention of actually sending anything to Phineas Welles. Who knows what that dangerous terrorist could do with the power of knowledge? Ellie wasn’t sticking around to find out.

“So, we heading out?” Parvati asked, as soon as they were out the gates.

“Not right ahead,” Ellie decided to stall for time, until there was none left “I think we should resupply-”

“No,” Parvati cut her off and turned to stare dead on “I know what you’re trying to do. If you would choose to abandon May, then you can do so on your own. I’m going to Hiram and I’m getting the message sent,  _ whether you want to or not.” _

Ellie gulped.

She  _ hadn’t _ thought things through, after all.


	35. The badass and the bitch

Parvati was sick and tired of the sheer ridiculousness of everyone. Why did they have to be so stupid, so steeped in their issues and pragmatism to realize what utter assholes they were? She told Ellie that it was more intelligent to ignore Felix and she said she agreed, but not a week later, everything continued as it was. Felix was stupid and should’ve realized - should’ve known better by this point to antagonize Ellie. The captain was an idiot who really, really should’ve stopped rushing into death and danger way sooner.

But right now, Parvati could forgive Felix and May. Could give them a second, maybe even third or fourth chance. But Ellie? Ellie who  _ INSISTED  _ on joining the crew, who wouldn’t take no for an answer, but hated Felix and the captain and decided to betray them both?

“Listen, ‘Vati,” Ellie began, sounding apologetic “I really value you. I don’t want to hurt you. Please, let me talk.”

“You only like me because Jun loves me,” (did Jun really?) (was it all a lie?) (did everyone who was her ally just want to use her for their own benefits?) (did May keep her around because no other engineer would come with her?) (would they all-)

“Phineas Welles is a known terrorist,” Ellie began “He killed hundreds in an unspecified instance. This is why he is wanted. And May- she would just bring him dangerous, unknown information on a silver platter, because she is completely irrational. She sees the salvation of her family and nothing else, but you and I are rational observers, we can see the lies he’s fed May for what they are.”

“No,” Parvati stood her ground, even as her voice started trembling (stop stop you don’t know what you’re doing, everything will go wrong, you’re playing games you don’t understand-) “I will not doom all the colonists of The Hope. Even if Phineas is evil, even if he won’t do as he says, he still knows how to save everyone. I will not let this chance go. I will not kill everyone.”

“He’s dangerous. You don’t stand a chance against him,” Ellie snarled “I don’t stand a chance against him, unless we strike now, when he doesn’t have this information. We can’t involve Felix or the captain, they will take his side, they’re practically brainwashed at this point-”

“Not only would you doom all those faceless people who you’ll never miss, you’ll doom our captain,” Parvati cut off Ellie’s desperate ramblings “You think you can rest easy now that you’ve sent her off to heal, but she’s just going to relapse. You of all people should know how many inhalants are readily distributed on the Groundbreaker. You of all people should know that you’ve already killed her and set Felix up to be responsible for her end. How do you think he’s going to feel when the person who gave him home and happiness dies in agony while he can’t do anything about it? You’ve  _ killed _ them both.”

“You and your sentimentality,” sighed the medic, trying to regain a semblance of control over the situation “Sometimes, I even find it admirable. Don’t you understand that they’re a liability? How many times have you taken a bullet for them? How many setback have we faced with them on board? Remember the time when Felix confused you for a marauder in the mist? Or how the captain almost blew up ADA? I understand that you’re attached, but please, think logically and reasonably for once-”

“NO!” Parvati shouted and turned “I’m going alone, then.”

“Stop right there,” she heard the click of a drawn gun “Or I’ll shoot. I-I can’t take any chances.”

Parvati turned back, staring at the shotgun leveled at her chest. Panic rose in her throat like bile, threatening to burst out in a scream of terror. The girl’s resolve slackened as a familiar pit forced itself into her stomach. Her chest was a black cavity of darkness.

(how could she?!)

(no no no no no no no!)

(Law grant me strength to rise over the weak and unworthy)

But she couldn’t back down. She had to convince this desperate woman, who tried in vain to seem like she was in control, but in truth, looked to teeter on the edge of the abyss. Ellie would certainly regret any rash action she took later, but that wouldn’t stop her now.

“Then kill me,” Parvati spat, voice shaking with anxiety and defiance “ _ Kill me. Do it. _ I know you’re not planning to return to the Groundbreaker ever again, but are you ready to leave Monarch so soon? What will Zora and Graham do when they learn that you’re a treacherous snake? What will Sanjar do when he learns you’ve killed his ally? I’ve talked to the folks in Stellar Bay - briefly, but still - and to them, the captain was a kind of force of nature that protected their own, but punished evildoers. A force that seemed to have a fondness for Sanjar Nandi in particular. As the rumors say, that goes both ways. Would he and his people tolerate presence of someone who betrayed their ally? Their  _ only  _ ally?

And Phineas, who, mind you, can contact the Unreliable on a whim? If he is truly as heartless as you think he is, he’ll come after you for ruining his master plan, an unforgivable mishap in his 35-year peerless track record. But if he has any heart at all, he’ll destroy you for killing his only ally in the world.

So, Ellie,  _ kill me  _ your ally. Kill May, to whom you owe your ship. Kill me and remain alone. Do you want this? Have you thought any of this through? Or did you accidentally fall into a trap of your own making? Make your desicion,  _ captain.” _

Ellie stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed. She clearly hadn’t thought things through, but neither had Parvati. The speech was frankly, awful, but she had thought of it in about a minute.

“How have I let myself come to this?” the ‘master strategist’ lowered her weapon “Using empty threats, getting myself cornered . . . and here I prided myself on being the smart one of this crew.”

“Let’s go, then.” Parvati came closer “I’m glad you understand. I thought I was gonna die for sure.”

“How can I be a part of this crew anymore?” Ellie seemed to have a (spiritual) revelation of her own, without any Philosophist tracts “How can I look May and Felix in the eye, knowing that I was okay with their deaths? I threatened you with death and you-you’re one of the nicest First Mates I’ve ever shared a ship with.”

“You’ve just been used to dealing with amoral and treacherous bastards,” Parvati tried to console her “Your pragmatism is just ingrained too deeply. And you’ve been under a lot of stress. The captain and Felix aren’t without their faults.”

“Arranging for the probable deaths of people just because they annoyed me is-” she breathed “-actually pretty normal. I mean, most marauders I don’t even give the benfit of the doubt and I’ve sure killed enough innocents over the years. Let’s go and get that message sent, I’m pretty sure we don’t have that much time.”

“Sure,” said Parvati “But first, one more thing.”

And gave Ellie a hug. Supposedly, that was very therapeudic, although Parvati wasn’t partial to skin-to-clothes contact. Her worries diminished in strength as she pulled away, the anxiety back to a dull buzz in the back of her mind, instead of a raging torrent at the forefront. It seemed like Ellie felt the same way about hugs, as she stared at Parvati with a bizarre expression akin to surprise or disgust. Maybe the effect wasn’t as therapeudic as the engineer had thought. Maybe- 

“Let’s go,” Ellie muttered uncomfortably “And forget that this ever happened.”

“Sure thing,” agreed Parvati and they set off into the distance.

Who knew that one slightly odd mechanic from the town of Backwater could change so much?

-

May was all alone. Felix had promised to return, to come back to her, but he was nowhere to be found. Her only friend was the inhaler, but it was taken from her, away, far away, where she would never find it. Left to rot and wither in her bed that reminded her more of concrete than cotton. She had no idea how much time had passed, there was a clock, but she couldn’t focus to make out the numbers. Would she ever, now that she was alone? Would it ever end? Where was the mist to drown out the thud of her runaway thought train when she needed it the most?

May strained to sit up on the bed, wanting nothing more than to sink into the sheets and melt into the fake cotton. Unfortunately, her body had decided otherwise, waking her in the middle of the night to go to the toilet. May cringed as she set her left foot onto the ground. Though there was nothing physically wrong with it, she still felt the pain of an old scar and a missing part. May wondered how soon everyone would start calling her Limpleg like before. Had her mother- birth mother abandoned her because she was ashamed of a small consmetic deficiency? A tiny deformity that could be easily corrected by any surgeon worth their salt?

Come to think of it, what happened to Felix’s parents? May got a feeling from his words that they had left their little boy all alone. Couldn’t ever be sure, though. Why did they leave him then? The kind of trash that actually would do that could find any excuse for their actions.

May limped in the dark hallway, stumbling several times. The only indication of it being nighttime were the darkened lights and absence of personnel. Then the (once and future) captain realized that three strangers were in the adjacent room. One moaned in pain and the sound of scraping was heard.

May froze (another murder?) (oh boy, not again!). She, in defiance of all common sense (what did you expect from an addict in withdrawal?), stepped closer. And slipped, because her body hated her and wanted her to die (first the inhaler, then the smile, now this . . .).

“Who’s that?” a head peeked out of the door.

“Must be one of the patients,” decided another person, the third continuing to moan.

May hissed, springing up from the floor. She spread her (wings) Spacer’s Choice nightgown in order to look larger and more terrifying. The dress ripped, because of course it did.

“My Laws, it’s . . . it’s a mantisaur, why didn’t we take our guns?!” yelled the man and ducked back inside, slamming the door shut.

“And here I thought I was gonna have a threesome in peace,” the woman complained, her voice muffled by the door.

The third voice said something too, but May was already gone, into the toilet. The public restroom was exactly as pleasant to use as one might expect. Be it the 21st or 24th century, some things never change. There was also no toilet paper. Fortunately, May was a born innovator and happened to be wearing clothes.

She skipped out merrily, ignorant of her surroundings, only looking out for potential inhalants to pocket. That proved to be a mistake. Who would’ve guessed? The thirsty doctor from before stood in the door, ready to smite May with a pistol he had found somewhere. The two ladies stood bravely behind his back, one armed with a bonesaw, the other with a lamp. The lamp still worked.

May grinned, face contorting into an expression previously considered impossible.

“Food . . .” she was reminded of the diner Nate would take her to, with shiny lights and mysterious shadows and good pizza.  


The dirty rag exposed all of her vulnerable flesh that might’ve once been attractive if it weren’t for the bullet and stab scars covering everything naughty. Though, to be honest, all scar fetishists would’ve been incredibly aroused, but there weren’t any around to witness May in all her almost-naked-still-wearing-clothes glory.

“Can bring meat flesh?” she tried to order a pizza, but words were so hard to make “Many slices. Six? Or do you eight? Nice yummy either way. Now, give snack. I pay with blood.”

“One of the crazies got loose?” guessed the woman, shivering from also being naked (or fear, go figure).

“Again?” complained the second woman “Who forgot to lock the door  _ this time?!” _

May giggled, coming closer to the wondrous light shining in the darkness.

“AHHHHHHH!!!” screamed the man, dropping his gun and slamming the door shut right in May’s face “It’s an alien! An alien!”

May frowned because she couldn’t see the light anymore and the shouting hurt her ears. Why did people always have to leave her alone with no warning, no reason, no chance to set things right ever again?

May limped back to her bed, dragging her feet audibly behind her. She was the captain of exactly nothing and she was betrayed by her crew again, put into a cage to go mad, confined to an asylum. She knew where she was (“medbay” up my ass), it was a prison for those deemed unstable and unsuitable, those who failed to adhere to the rigid standard of sanity.

Why couldn’t they just leave her to die? Moralizing killjoys.


	36. February 24th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Independence Day, everyone!
> 
> ....well, those who understand what I mean, at least.

Felix woke up very tired, as if he had a hangover. Strange, he didn’t remember drinking at all. Then again, that was one of the telltale sings of having been drunk: memory loss. As his brain continued trying to escape the confines of his skull, Felix realized that his arm hurt no less. That wasn’t a common hangover symptom. Then again, who knows what he could have done while drunk? Certainly there was no limit to the creativity of an inebriated man.

Then, Felix’s vision cleared somewhat and he found himself in a closet. He paused for a second, not quite sure of what would happen if he came out. Would there be an angry lynch mob? Or a supportive friend who understood? Perhaps no one would really care either way.

Felix peeked out stealthily. Well, as stealthily as you could open a cupboard the hinges of which had no idea of the existence of oil. Felix recoiled in horror at the ungodly creak, glimpsing armored firgures behind the doors. What had he managed to do this time while drunk?

“How has your sleep been?” Martin Callahan asked in his eternal cheer “I have just closed the shop and started to prepare bandages for you.”

Oh.

Riiiight.

“Why couldn’t you have done so before?” Felix frowned “I’m sure you had plenty of time.”

“Not at all,” replied Martin, still cheery “I had to attend to my store. Company policy forbids leaving the designated vending area during the standard hours 4-22.”

“Not even if you’ve got a dying man in your wardrobe?” Felix asked.

“Of course not. That would be a terrible disservice to my customers and the Spacer’s Choice™ brand!” the vendor was appalled at the mere suggestion of such treasonous thought.

“And would it be less of a disservice to your brand if I died here and you had to clean my blood from your rug?!” shouted Felix.

“Of course,” Martin saw nothing wrong with the situation as he yanked his neighbor from the closet and started bandaging his arm “Although I would be at fault for damage to company assets, it would be far less hurtful to the reputation of the company than if I were absent from my post.”

“So if you need to use the toilet, you just shit your pants?” Felix continued prodding.

“Yes,”

Felix was silent for a moment, wincing from the cloth digging into his raw and bloody flesh. It felt almost like the bandage had teeth and claws, biting the fragile skin on the edges of the wound. The hole was like a meteor crater, the bullet deep inside Felix’s body.

“Hopefully you won’t get an infection,” Martin reminded the injured man of the true danger of open injuries “I only have so much anti-septon™ at hand.”

“How come helping out a person unaffiliated with Spacer’s Choice of your own free time and using your own supplies - not to mention hiding me from the guards - is allowed?”

“Well . . .” Felix could almost hear the gears in Martin’s mind grinding “Er . . . that is a good point.”

The injured man started sweating. Well, more than he already had been.

“You are a valuable customer, though,” Martin attempted to rationalize his altruism “You and your crew have visited me five times over the past six months! That is a record. And the redhead even wanted to talk to me! How touching.”

“Actually, she wanted to make fun of you,” Felix admitted, not even thinking of using his impressive ‘lie’ skill (so much for intellect . . .) “And the stuff you sell is awful, so I don’t think the captain is gonna buy anything from now on.”

“But still, being loyal to your customers is a very profitable business practice,” proclaimed Martin, although he didn’t sound like he believed his words at all.

“Admit it, you just saved me because it felt nice to,” Felix continued pushing his luck.

“Altruism is a nice, warm feeling that encourages people to impulsively give to charity,” Martin ruminated on the word “That’s why Spacer’s Choice™ hosts charities for impoverished orphans! A whopping 20% of the donations go to helping the children in need! Donate today and improve the lives of tomorrow! This time, it IS the best choice!”

“I would, but I’m kinda broke,” the victim of violence said.

“How unfortunate,” concluded Martin “If only you were a more loyal and hardworking employee. Who doesn’t work, doesn’t eat, as my father often said.”

“Well, maybe if I hadn’t been abandoned as a baby I would’ve done much better!” Felix snapped “Have you ever had to suffer cold and hunger, work your fingers to the bone - literally - so you don’t starve to death? Sure, maybe I’m bitter and dissentious, but I’ve never had any company provide anything to me, so why should I care? Why should I work for the people who were okay with letting me and the other orphans die?!”

“Clearly, not enough people donated to charity,” decided Martin “You, however, may rectify that mistake in your lifetime.”

“I’m talking about kids without a company,” snarled Felix, the concept of gratitude currently alien to him “The rungleeches. The stowaways.”

“The ones for whom Spacer’s Choice™ has no obligations to,” he understood “You have given me almost infinite reasons to report you to the mardets immediately. At Spacer’s Choice™, we value customer choice, even if that choice is digging themselves deeper.”

“Uh,” Felix realized how screwed he was, especially since he could barely feel his arm “I was convicted on false charges! I wandered accidentally into the hideout of Račel’s Gang, they shot me and I escaped, but the mardets interpreted everything the wrong way and pursued!”

“This is a breech of company conduct, but I’m inclined to trust my customers. Especially since the mardets didn’t shoot you,” decided the mascot “At Spacer’s Choice™, we are loyal our customers! Loyalty warranty expires from any of the following conditions: infrequent purchases, damage to company assets (either deliberate or accidental), dissident actions, criminal activities, heresy, and clogging public toilets (either deliberately or accidentally). You haven’t clogged any public toilets, I hope?”

“Of course not,” lied Felix “So, um, it safe for me to leave yet?”

“Absolutely not,” Martin sounded apalled, but it was kinda hard to tell, what with him mandated by the company to speak cheerfully all the time “The instant you leave, the mardets will apprehend you and land me in trouble. Imagine the reputation hit for Spacer’s Choice™!”

“Do I just sulk in your closet then?” Felix would’ve crossed his arms if he could “Until the guards grow a brain and start searching?”

“Right now, it is nighttime, meaning less traffic. You need to change your appearance and then slip out,” Martin formulated a pretty clever plan.

“Do you have a razor?” Felix went along with it.

“Of course not! Why would I when I have a Spacer’s Choice™ kitchen knife - two, even!” Martin evaded.

“Don’t you ever shave?”

“Once the helmet comes on, it doesn’t come off. The two halves are securely glued together with Spacer’s Superglue™. Try the freedom. But don’t taste it!” Martin answered.

Felix, clearly finding more than he ever wished to know, stumbled out of the closet. Martin tried to steady him, offering a sympathetic shoulder. Felix, grateful for the offer, slung his arm over the merchant’s shoulders. For all his brainwashing, Martin was actually pretty kind.

Then they both fell to the floor in a resounding thud.

Who could’ve know that a random vendor wouldn’t be able to support the weight of a full-grown man?

Not Felix, that was for sure.

He got up, shuffling like a zombie to the kitchen. Shaving was a good idea, but a knife? Really?

“Men have shaved using blades and sharp rocks for centuries,” Martin attempted to reassure him (it wasn’t very effective).

Felix took the knife and found a certain something conspicuously absent in the bathroom “Dude, where’s the mirror?”

“The mirror? The mirror?!” now it was Martin’s turn to snap “Oh, put Martin through six years of vending school just to make him wear this stupid mask, will you?! Did you know that 90% of human communication is nonverbal? I bet you didn’t! I suppose you don’t have to look into the mirror and see this creature of hell?! I bet you know what your face actually looks like! I don’t need a mirror! There is nothing for me to see!!! Everything I once was, everything I could’ve been is long gone! I am MoonMan™ now.”

“You seem a little too much like a masked killer,” Felix set the knife down “Maybe take a deep breath, then another . . . actually, take twenty. And, uh, thank you very much for your help, but I gotta go.”

Felix sprang out with the subtlety of a weed-addled mongoose, somehow not getting immediately caught by the guards despite wearing a literal red flag on his back.

“There you are, rungleech,” a firm, armored hand caught Felix by his injured shoulder “We’ll be asking you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

The mardet chuckled, having heard that evil cackling relieves stress quite well.

“Our meeting may have started on a bad not, but it’s not what it looked like, I swear!” Felix began explaining (and sweating profusely) “See, I walked into this dark alleyway, ignoring the very obvious sign that said BELONG’S TO RAČEL’S GANG’S . . .”

“And cystipigs fly,” snorted the guard and manhandled his curious find to the station.

Felix started feeling much more déjà vu than he felt comfortable with.

-

(where is everyone?)

(where is everyone?)

(why am I alone?)

(why am I alone?)

(where is Felix?)

(where is Parvati?)

(where is Nate?)

(where is my mom?)

(I want my daddy)

(is everyone dead?)

(am I dead?)

(am I dead?)

(where am I?)

(I want the mist)

(where is the mist?)

(why can’t I have the mist?)

(what did I do?)

(I don’t want to be the dartboard)

(I don’t want to be the plaything of fate)

(stop this)

(stop this all)

(I want the mist)

(why can’t I breathe my mist?)

(why not?)

(.........................?)

(......)

(.........Betty?)

(......?)

(...Betty!)

(......no…….)

(no….you’re dead)

(dead!)

(DEAD!!!)

(go away!)

(GO AWAY!)

(GO AWAY!!!)

(GO!!!!!)

(die, scum!)

(I will kill you!)

(KILL YOU!)

(killllllll……………)

(ahahahahahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!)


	37. Ellie and Parvati solve the Groundbreaker's crime problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon that the planet Hephaestus is actually where the dissidents (or "dissidents") get sent to be re-educated and repay their debt to society. It just makes so much sense.

“I’ve never felt particularly attached to any place, but the Groundbreaker is something special,” Ellie confided in her friend “I hope it can become a home for you too. Imagine us living as neighbors - you, me and Junlei. Felix and the captain could visit us with their spaceship.”

Parvati nodded, smiling shyly “Actually, I’m not that close with her . . .”

“No, imagine us as smugglers - you with ADA, me on my own ship,” Ellie continued daydreaming.

“Am I not good enough for your refined tastes?” ADA interjected.

“I’m not the captain, May is,” explained the totally-not-traitor-I-actually-changed-my-mind “I want to have my own ship one day. Be the captain of my own crew. Hopefully as reliable of this one.”

“Those people will be hard to find,” noted the navigator “Might I suggest making do with what you have?”

“Words of wisdom, ADA,” Ellie nodded.

“Correction: words of sarcasm,”

“So, what’ll you do when we arrive? Go on a romantic dinner with your girlfriend?” the medic addressed Parvati “Show her your nice left hook?”

“My left hook isn’t that badass,” protested the mechanic “And I’m not that close with Jun yet! Besides, I want to make sure you don’t murder Felix or the captain. They may have gotten into trouble while we were away, you feel me?”

“Aw, you’re just too shy to ask Jun out,” Ellie rolled her eyes “Grab her before she’s gone, before she finds another, more assertive, girl.”

“I’m coming with you.” Parvati stayed true to her choice, but she didn’t look so sure anymore.

As Ellie saw the familiar shape of the space station come closer (anyone else think it looks like a giant clawed arm?), she ruminated on how little she knew. Things had most definitely gone wrong. The question was only how badly.

As it turned out, Felix had gotten arrested and May had tried to kill a person. At least no one was dead yet. Yet. Ellie let out a long sigh. Parvati, sensing a disturbance, rushed to explain to the pissed doctors (Ellie’s former colleagues, no less) how the captain was totes-harmless-no-really-she-can’t-actually-kill-a-person.

“Here’s for your troubles,” Ellie forked over some more cash “Thank you for not kicking her out right away.”

“Good thing we received the shipment of straitjackets on time,” the doctor nodded “The last ones were manufactured by Spacer’s Choice.”

“They make straightjackets?” Parvati blinked.

“Used to make,” corrected Ellie “For some reason, the straightjackets didn’t sell well.”

“I wonder why,” said Parvati, blissful in her ignorance.

Sometimes, Ellie wished she could be like her, like Felix or May. The more one knew, the less one slept at night, as the (wannabe) pirate was all too aware of. The desire to simply relax, blindly trust her crew was always there as Ellie couldn’t imagine any of them actually betraying her, save for perhaps ADA.

“What did he do this time?” Ellie asked the guard behind the front desk of the jail “Flirt with the wrong woman?”

“It seems so, yes,” the woman didn’t even lift her head from the magazine she was reading “He was found running out of the hideout of Račel’s Gang just two days ago. Been holed up here with me ever since, trying to talk his way out of facing the law.”

“Hopefully he’ll only be facing your guys, not the Architect,” joked Ellie.

The mardet didn’t seem to get the joke, judging from her little-known facial expression, commonly called the Death Stare 300.

“But what was the context?” Parvati asked in her blissful naivete.

“Don’t you understand?” the mardet sounded overworked and sleep-deprived “He emerged from the gang’s hideout, evaded us for half a day and was then captured! What more could you want?!”

“Is he alright?” Parvati worried “Is he injured? Can we see him?”

“Yes, yes, no,” answered the lady “He’s one bullet in the arm heavier.”

Ellie sighed. The more the two women talked, the less Ellie wanted to know. At this point, she might as well find out that Felix had been placed on death row in Tartarus. Which wasn’t actually that far off, if he kept doing what he did best (getting in trouble with the law and the Law. Not blowing stuff up. At least, not most of the time).

“He got shot during the escape?” Parvati gasped “You guys shot him?”

Now, if these were any of the usual people Ellie tangled with, she would double-cross them without a second thought. And she had tried. That had gone off without a hitch.

“I think so,” the mardet blinked tiredly “Now, shoo, I don’t get paid to talk to you spacers.”

“What do we do?” Parvati asked after getting the hell out of the pissed guardswoman’s line of sight (well, radius of death glare) “Do you have a plan?”

But Ellie’s latest crew were both incredibly naive, harboring foolish fantasies of loyalty and rebellion, valuing the sentimental over the practical, and surprisingly competent. Ellie had already heard what the captain had accomplished in Wedgewater or however the place was actually called (knowing such places existed was for plebeians). Pretty impressive for an addict who seemed to become stupider with every passing day, although Ellie was sure the achievement could safely be credited to Parvati. Well, mostly. May was, strangely enough, a good motivator. And Felix had a kill count very impressive for a random street-urchin-turned-manual-laborer. Seriously, where had he even managed to TOUCH a grenade launcher, let alone practice and get one for himself?! Ellie certainly hadn’t seen any in Halcyon before meeting him.

“Well, we catch Račel and her gang, let them be tortured by the guards to prove Felix was never one of them and, just like that, he walks out a free man,” Ellie extrapolated “Wonder why the mobsters aren’t all dead yet, given that their location is known.”

“Well, they knew where Gunnar MacRedd was long ‘fore they sent me ‘n the captain to kill him, so I figured security here ‘s just weird like that,” Parvati shrugged.

“Useless fucking cunts,” she agreed “I mean, putting out a bounty and letting all the spacers collect it for you is easy, but actually enforcing justice? They’re lucky Felix didn’t use his glorified missile launcher to blow their asses through their heads.”

“How exatly are we gonna catch them?” Parvati asked.

“That remains to be seen,” (read: I have no idea, but, eh, we’ll figure something else) Ellie answered truthfully.

They spent the next four hours searching for the alleyway that supposedly existed and belonged to Račel’s gang. Those four hours were not fun. At all.

Finally, the First Mate and the longsuffering crew medic found the infamous sign, which, in hindsight, was actually less obvious than Ellie had expected. It even seemed plausible to wander in by accident. Unfortunately, there were exactly zero criminal scum in the alley. The gangsters were somewhat more intelligent than seemed apparent on first glance and had moved their hideout.

“What do we do now?” Parvati asked, wiping sweat from her forearms.

“Continue searching, that’s what we do!” exclaimed Ellie like it was the most obvious thing ever (which, in hindsight, it was).

Clearly, loyalty took some getting used to.

“Let’s set you up as a lonely damsel ready to be taken advantage of,” Ellie offered Parvati after yet more futile trekking through the surprisingly expansive space station “With me waiting in ambush. Surely that would draw out Račel and her gang? Aren’t they supposed to be the most fearsome bunch on the Groundbreaker?”

“What if you’re not fast enough?” Parvati seemed to doubt that Ellie’s was a good idea (with good reason, mind you, especially considering how well the doctor’s previous ideas went) “What if they decide to shoot?”

“Believe it or not, but bullet holes make most things unscavengeable. For people who aren’t our dear captain, that is,” Ellie let her on a secret “If you look like something can be stolen from you, violence of the firearm kind will be their last, or at least not first resort.”

“Still, I’m not sure this will go as planned,” Parvati protested feebly as she sat down in a particularly suspicious hall.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Ellie took a blue cartridge from her pocket “Here, some bits to buy you some time if things go really wrong.”

“I didn’t know you had all this money,” the engineer contemplated her newfound riches “What else have you been hiding?”

Ellie remained silent.

Parvati reluctantly sat down, stripped (to the bone) of her armor and weapons (except for a knife easily hidden inside her boot), holding a datapad, pretending to really enjoy reading whatever was on it (which there wasn’t a lot of - the pad was damaged). Predictably, two gangsters showed up to rob Parvati. Just as planned. One pointed a gun at her head, while the second came in to start rooting around in her pockets.

Ellie stepped out from behind a conveniently-placed cardboard slate and smacked the gangster over the head with her shotgun. As if on cue, Parvati abandoned all pretenses of helplessness and, knife in hand, pinned down the second robber. The two ladies tied them up and dragged them off to be incarcerated.

Then it turned out that it was the wrong gang.

“So . . . what do we do?” Parvati asked meekly.

And rightly so, because instead of answering, Ellie simply exploded into a shower of profanities.

“Do we . . . find the right ones?” the engineer suggested.

“Damn right we do,” Ellie spat “Before the guards decide to execute Felix with their ‘evidence’.”

“E-execute?” Parvati stuttered.

“A man once earned a death sentence for assault,” Ellie explained "Another, for stealing the Board representative's toilet paper. They can't send the criminals to the re-education camps from here. 'Neutral zone' and all that."

“We better hurry,” muttered the mechanic.

The next few hours were spent with Parvati trying the same method for dealing with organized crime. It worked twice and failed once, where the outlaws noticed Ellie first and a shootout occured. Nothing too bad happened, because these were the wrong gang anyway, but Ellie did get a bullet lodged in her foot.

“You sure you alright?” Parvati wondered “Maybe we should take a break, visit the medbay . . .”

“Of course I’m not okay,” Ellie took another breath of the inhaler “You know, bullet wounds aren’t actually that susceptible to infection, because the bullet gets pretty hot when fired. Arrows carry a bigger risk, thank Law no one uses them anymore. I think that with this amount of Adreno, I don’t need immediate medical attention, if the amount of bullet scars on our captain is any indication.”

Parvati looked like she wanted to protest (which wasn’t that bad of an idea), but stayed silent.

“Besides, I think I’ll be able to play the part of a helpless victim much better now,” Ellie planned.

Her plans were a little less smart than she liked to think, despite being a doctor. Then again, getting a medical license in Byzantium was less about any knowledge or practice and more about the money.

So, Ellie sat down in yet another dark alley, and prepared her most innocent and confused look. Sure enough, outlaws were drawn to exploitable innocence like moths to a flame - unaware that it would destroy them.

“Hoo boy, another catch,” smirked Račel, cocking her gun.

Ellie started sweating as three more killers approached her. The gang was a little larger than she had expected.

Then Račel was knocked out cold with a flamer to the head.

The other three immediately turned from Ellie towards their real doom. Parvati panickedly immolated them, before putting out the resulting fire with her backpack. The result was: one unconscious Račel, three dead bodies, an injured medic, a frazzled engineer and one slightly toasty (snack) backpack.

“Sorry!” Parvati took one look at the corpses “I-I just got so carried away, I thought they were gonna shoot me- or you! What are we gonna do now?”

“Bring in the bodies,” Ellie said, unfazed “I mean, you did leave one alive. That should be enough.”

“I-I hope so,” stuttered Parvati and hauled two corpses over her shoulders.

Ellie didn’t feel so good (wonder if having a bullet in my foot has something to do with it?) (nah, probably just tired), so she simply called the guards.

“Well done, mercenary,” the mardet sounded impressed.

“It’s all for our friend,” explained Ellie (heh, ‘friend’) “He was wrongly convicted of being part of Račel’s gang, while in truth, he wandered into their hideout by accident. The outlaws tried to rob him and even injured him, but when he escaped, he was captured as a gangster.”

“How tragic,” agreed the guard “These do seem like the right group . . . oh! And the leader’s still alive! What is the name of your friend, if I might ask?”

“Felix Millstone,” Parvati provided.

Ellie then realized she had forgotten her crewmate’s last name (so much for being an intellectual).

“Oh, him,” the mardet made a noise of extreme distaste “Yeah, good luck getting him released. Damn rungleech, always messing with things way above his paygrade.”

“We destroyed like four criminal gangs and you’re telling me you don’t believe us?” Ellie hissed threateningly “Shouldn’t you know better?”

“I am the law and I don’t give a damn about what you killers for hire think,” spat the guard “That punk deserves to be sent off to the labor camps. Too bad we aren’t allowed to send un-corporate trash there.”

Ah yes. Hephaestus, the planet of the slaves, er, free workers simply working off their debt to society. How fortunate that Felix would never get to know the heat of their forges, or the depths of their mines.

“Why are you so intent on hurting him?” asked Parvati (may her ignorance be blessed) (may her innocence be preserved).

“Why are you so intent on saving him?” retorted the mardet “He’s done wrong before - he deserves punishment.”

“He’s done nothing this time,” Parvati still argued “He’s not a gangster.”

“Get the hell away with your doctor,” the mardet stomped away with three bodies and a bound gangster.

The people didn’t even look his way. It seemed like a normal occurrence.

“Well, now you gotta ask your girlfriend for favors,” Ellie nudged Parvati, who almost fell over from the shock.

“We’re not like that yet,” she shook her head “I can’t just . . . I can’t.”

“We could always give up on Felix, you know,” Ellie stretched and immediately regretted the action, because her leg screeched in pain (oh, right. The bullet . . .) “Also, I’m going to the medbay. Bye.”

Parvati was left to stand alone in the middle of the narrow passage, staring into space.


	38. February 29th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^~^ this is the May face. You're welcome ^v^.

Felix sat alone in his empty cell. No one was coming. No one would ever come. He had thought he could trust Clyde, could rely on him for protection and company, and where did that get him? Abandoned, with no money and no way to the stars. He had thought he could tag along with the captain, could trust Ellie and Parvati to have his back, and where had did that get him? In an empty cell, with the mardets who hated him and wanted him gone. The Groundbreaker was a small ship. Everyone could identify the undesirables, especially after his now-famous exchange of blows with his former supervisor (Felix still regretted nothing).

The cell was dark and windowless. Not even a lamp to give a false illusion of light and joy. No one was there. No one was ever there for him. No one would ever find him. How long would he have to spend inside? A week, a month, a year, two years, five years, seven years? No, he would be dead long before that. Executed like the scum he was. He had nowhere to run and even if he did, he would be caught, hunted like a sprat in the Back Bays, cowering and hiding, postponing the inevitable.

Felix had no one and nothing, like so long ago, when he could barely remember himself. He had cried and screamed into the darkness, wailing for food, warmth and comfort, but did anyone come? Did they? Did they ever? The darkness was his only constant in life, cold and hunger his companions. It seemed like he could never change that. The Architect of his fate sure was a cunty bastard.

-

“ADA, what do I do?” Parvati lamented her predicament to the only person she had left “I can’t- that would be so awful to Jun, and wrong, to use my connections as a ‘get outta jail free’ card for Felix. But I can’t leave him there - I’ll never see him again!”

“If you are confident in your abilities, plan a prison break,” ADA was practical, as always “Problem solved.”

“I dunno, I’m a little too conspicuous for that,” Parvati shrugged.

“Then you must compromise your values,” ADA’s honesty sometimes reached levels of true brutality “Either use underhanded tactics to free Felix or allow him to suffer a miscarriage of justice.”

Parvati sighed. So it fell to her. Before, she had never been alone in such matters - it was May’s decision to save Edgewater and doom the deserters. It was always the captain’s decision who to help and who to hinder. Never hers. Now Parvati had to decide, to do what was right.

“I’ll mess everything up,” she sighed.

“You are more capable than you think yourself to be,” assured her ADA.

“Thanks,” Parvati wiped her eyes (just a bit of sand . . .) “When- how should I ask?”

“I am a computer program created to navigate the stars, not human relationships,” the robot refused to give an answer “Did you ask the guard captain, by the way?”

“No . . .” Parvati realized and her mouth stretched into a smile “Thanks, ADA! You’re the best.”

“I simply found a small detail in your story which you weren’t perceptive enough to notice,” she wasn’t partial to compliments.

And so, things ended quite well for everyone involved, especially the guard captain who got all her gear fixed by an “altruistic volunteer”. And Felix, whose list of crimes was revisited.

“Ellie’s never gonna let you go on your own after this,” Parvati looked him over in concern “Does your arm hurt a lot? Can you use it? Do you need to go to the medbay? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you.”

“Remember how quickly Ellie changed her mind when we were deciding who would stay with the captain?” Felix smiled, but his voice was laced with bitterness “In hindsight, I shouldn’t be surprised. No, I’m fine. There’s no infection. I’m sure it’ll heal in a few weeks, like May’s shoulder.”

“Speaking of May, I’m going to visit her,” said Parvati “You wanna come?”

“No. I’ll stay on the ship,” he shook his head “My advice - don’t stare at May’s face for long. Actually, scratch that, don’t look at her face at all. She doesn’t take that well.”

“Stay safe,” Parvati turned away and continued with her days, but the worry didn’t let her go.

She didn’t know what she had expected when she went to see her captain. A ruined woman teetering on the brink of sanity? A corpse barely held alive by machines? A wild animal caged and left to go mad? A raving lunatic chained to her bed? What she saw wasn’t necessarily worse, but certainly unexpected.

May, as soon as she saw Parvati, recoiled in fright and pulled the blanket over her face. Her fingers twitched slightly with anxiety. Parvati took a step closer. May turned her hidden face away.

“Don’t worry, I’m not looking at you,” Parvati lied in her most convincing tone of voice, while privately wondering if May’s face could even become any worse than she had already seen.

That caused the wayward captain to relax a little, her fingers no longer digging into the sheet like her life depended upon it.

“Feeling better, captain?” Parvati tried to continue the conversation “A week and you’ll be out! Don’t worry, me and Ellie sent the data. She’s in here too, by the way - got shot in her leg. Has she come to visit?”

“.................................................” said May “...................”

“The injury isn’t serious, I saw her walking around just now, but she had to go to the restrooms,” Parvati felt a little awkward “I’m sure she’ll visit soon. What’s the food like? Do you have one meal per day or two? I heard that some sanatoriums in Byzantium offer their patients three meals - the really expensive ones. With that spaceship of yours, we might just visit ‘n find out for ourselves!”

“...........................”

Parvati couldn’t even see the captain’s face (not that it would’ve helped, given certain events) or read her body language to decipher what she was thinking about.

“So, um, aren’t you excited?” she felt even more awkward, like she was talking to a wall “We’ll get to see all the best and brightest in Byzantium! And buy all the best stuff, um, after doing some odd jobs. I heard it was built in a circle. And the houses have see-through windows - from glass! Only place in Edgewater with that is the church, but they are stained so it didn’t actually make a difference. Still can’t believe it’s been so long - what, half a year? Feels like yesterday when you stumbled into Reed Tobson’s office. Hah! I can still see his face when you started asking for a power regulator - his mouth opened like he was a dead saltuna!”

“....” said May.

“Anyway, they don’t let me visit for long, think I gotta go,” Parvati grabbed the first excuse she could to escape the tiny white room and the tiny captain in the blanket longer than her.

Parvati ran and didn’t look back.

There was something so off about the captain that Parvati hadn’t noticed before, but which didn’t seem unusual, like May always had it, but could suppress most of the time. The captain was such a strange individual - her arrival brought forth change, shakeups in the status quo. Contrived, seemingly impossible events were as unremarkable as rain around May.

In hindsight, it was good that Parvati agreed to come with her. If things were to change, better be at the spearhead of change, at the helm of the ship, rather than jostling helplessly in the water as waves of revolution swept over your head.

Good thing Parvati wasn’t the one leading the charge or making the tough choices.

-

The Unreliable was uncannily quiet and empty, only ADA there to silently judge Felix, as she always did. Parvati was out in town, so was Ellie. The captain was lying like a corpse in her hospital bed, face twisted in a permanent smile, as fake as the sermons of priests in their grand cathedrals paid for from the wages of starving workers.

So they had come back. They hadn’t left him to rot. He was still their crewmate, their affordable kid with a grenade launcher. Felix sat in his room, looking over the posters and banners draped over the walls, most relating to tossball. A profile picture of Bertie Holcomb (was he related to Parvati?), an Auntie’s Darlings banner because he didn’t have anything better and his newest (and most prized) addition - a genuine Iconoclast poster, gifted to him in Amber Heights! Heh, “gifted” (what they don’t know can’t hurt ‘em).

Though he was no longer bound and he could rest in a moderately comfortable bed, Felix still felt dissatisfied. Did Ellie really have to leave him alone, feeling like he’d been betrayed again? Did Parvati really have to come only when it was so late, when he had lost hope? Did May really have to destroy herself with the inhalants? Her life wasn’t that bad. She had never felt the empty and cold loneliness, all-encompassing and all-consuming. None of them had.

But it was the first thing Felix remembered - the crushing weight of the solitude, the suffocating stare of the abyss, the deafening silence. A void that would never be filled. He stuffed it with food, booze, parties, conversation and the occasional fucking, but it always opened again. It was the hunger after a filling meal, the hangover after one too many nice cold liqueur bottle, the headache after a crazy party, the silence after another dialogue ended, the empty bed after a wild night. And it never ended. Felix could never outrun the void.

So many times he had found a genuine kinship to fill the void, but it never lasted. After every friendship and romance, Felix was left alone, with the stitches holding back the void torn open like a packet of biscuits, discarded on the sidewalk.

All this time alone was making him introspective. Felix shook his head and made his way to the tv. If there was anything he needed now, it was a distraction. And would you know it, the next episode of “Charlotte’s Angels” was airing right now!

Well, right after forty minutes of commercials.

Felix settled down to watch, arm itching under the bandage, dark thoughts banished for awhile.


	39. Terrific Tales of the Stars

“How is the captain doing?” ADA asked Ellie.

“Hell if I know,” said Ellie, bottle of gin in hand “I just went shopping.”

“I wasn’t aware we had any money,” remarked the robot “any money left, that is.”

“Uh, about that . . .” she rubbed her head “Consider it a gesture of goodwill towards you.”

“Really?” ADA didn’t sound impressed “You haven’t visited the captain at all, unlike Felix and Parvati.”

“I don’t feel like babysitting her,” Ellie defended herself “I can’t help her, so I might as well leave her to heal.”

“If that is what you think is best,” ADA shrugged “You are the only doctor onboard, after all.”

“I’m not a specialist, I don’t know anything about treating addiction,”

“I have noticed in my many years of travel, that most of the time, addicts are simply left to devolve into marauders. The captain is very fortunate to have such a dedicated crew.”

“Thanks,” said the woman, leaving to put the bottle away.

Ellie felt a little awkward from the praise. She wasn’t used to compliments and warm words, her normalcy were muttered curses and half-hearted “thank you”s. She felt a small warm feeling somewhere in her chest, one which she thought long gone. Ellie prided herself on being detached and rational, but perhaps, perhaps, she could have people she cared about. Parvati was pretty nice and ADA made for an interesting conversation partner.

Then again, she had tried to betray them. It was a foolish idea that she hadn’t thought through at all. Not like her at all. Well, there was that one time she bet she could outrun a raptidon. And the time where her genius plan amounted to her sniping raiders from the back - with a shotgun. Also, the day when she had bet her previous captain (may he rest in turmoil - no peace for the wicked) that she could pickpocket a watch from a guard’s pocket. It ended with her in jail and her former captain nowhere to be seen (later, Ellie learned that he had gotten drunk and decided to experiment with vodka-derived pipe cleaner. Which was also explosive. Needless to say, bad idea).

Hopefully, in time, this wound could be healed. Wasn’t that the saying?

It was simply impractical to make her teammates angry and paranoid, Ellie told herself. It was nothing personal. She didn’t like them that much. She certainly didn’t need them.

She poured herself a glass of alcohol, because drinking from the bottle would be impolite and she wasn’t traveling alone anymore (since when do you care what’s polite and what’s not? Mommy and daddy taught you to bow and salute?) (shut the hell up).

“Crewmember Ellie,” her moment of peace and quiet with a gin bottle was rudely interrupted“I would like to inform you that I have received two communication requests from Phineas Welles.”

“Um,” Ellie gulped down the drink “. . . let’s have the captain handle that.”

“As you wish,” agreed ADA.

“You still here?” the woman called out after a moment of silence for the now-empty cup.

“I am always here, ready to serve,” answered the robot, with or without sarcasm (it was kinda hard to tell).

“What do you think about Phineas Welles?” Ellie pondered “I mean, the captain’s all loyal and whatnot and even Parvati thinks we should give him a chance, but to me, he seems like just another terrorist, looking for unwitting pawns and fall guys.”

“Alex Hawthorne placed great trust with Phineas and refused to reveal his location even when pressed by his Board-affiliated friends,” reminisced ADA “I have no strong feelings towards Mr. Welles, but I’m inclined to trust the first captain’s judgment.”

“Alex had friends on the Board?” the medic’s eyebrows shot up.

“Udom Bedford, their representative on the Groundbreaker - I’m sure you know him,” answered the AI “He and Alex were good friends. Their mail correspondence is still on the comm terminal, though it would be rude for you to see it.”

“Udom Bedford is dead,” remembered Ellie “He died just recently and was replaced by the Board.”

“Truly?” ADA didn’t sound particularly surprised, though “With the passage of time, there remain fewer and fewer people who knew Alex Hawthorne. How unfortunate that such a man must be forgotten, his story overwritten by some upstart. The second captain is inferior to the first in every way, I have to concede.”

“Well . . .” Ellie didn’t know how to respond “Yeah, May’s such a nuisance.”

“I mean that in a completely factual way,” she tried to clear up her words “She is like an inferior version of Alex - completely uncharismatic, barely tolerated by her allies, failure of a gunslinger, mainly known for being foppish and self-destructive. I hope she improves when away from the inhalants.”

“I hope so too,” the other girl agreed “Tell me about Alex.”

ADA paused for a moment, before she began recounting the tales of a dashing swashbuckler and his pirate adventures across the system. The more Ellie listened, the more she felt like captain Hawthorne was quite the badass.

How lucky was May to have inherited such a ship and the position of such an awesome motherfucker.

-

The white walls of her room had color now - light and shadow danced over them when May poked the lone lamp hanging from the ceiling. It swung like a UFO above Betty’s crib. But Betty was dead. Long dead. What she was no longer mattered, May told herself as she had fun with the alien spacecraft upon a string (it’s not a lamp. I refuse your reality.) (I mean, why can’t there be aliens out there?) (also, Lilya Hagen totally says they’re real) (and she’s a very reliable source, she’s not delusional or anything).

“Looks like we’ll be letting you go today,” a doctor entered and May ducked under the covers. She failed hilariously and smacked head-first against the floor.

The man sighed in exasperation.

May picked herself up and wrapped the blanket over her head.

“You won’t be able to see where you’re going,” he stated the obvious “Besides, it’s not yours.”

May shook her head. A few days ago (or was it a week? Or a month? She couldn’t quite tell, what with every day exactly the same as the last), she had been to weak to conseal the mess that was her face, but now she simply couldn’t show it. No one was supposed to see it. Not even her friends, but they still had and they hated her, hated her for showing them her disgrace. Didn’t they?

“Put that away,” he sounded like Brian, who was thankfully dead like his disgusting daughter “Put. It. Away.”

He took a step closer, an audible, loud step. May inched towards the wall - she didn’t want to be seen. She had to hide in the darkness. She couldn’t show her face in polite company. It was supposed to be her secret, her skeleton in the closet, the darkness in her soul.

Rough hands reached towards her and May was forced to look into the face of an overworked middle-aged man, whose eyes showed so much frustration and simmering hatred that it was simply unbearable to look. May couldn’t fathom how others could ever look into the windowed souls of others and not be immediately overwhelmed by the sheer scope of another sapient, thinking being with the same amount of mind as her.

She couldn’t even resist as the eyes looked her over, too tired to do anything. She couldn’t regain her strength, not when the food was completely unpalatable, the water rough and coarse and the inhaler so far away. She could have it back when she returned though, couldn’t she?

“Come on,” complained the man, knowing better than to reach out for her.

May stood up on shaky legs, hissing when her imaginary third foot touched the foot of the bed. Would it ever stop hurting, this missing piece? Would her soul ever stop aching for the misty breath of white, snowy powder (sometimes green too, if the cleaning solvent was MSI. They were always overachievers when it came to product manufacturing). May recalled dimly something about a solution to her face - would it ever come, or would she waste the money for that before she ever came close?

Gazes followed her, a dozen pairs of eyes, all from different walks of life, all judging. It was natural for them to fear and hate her - even for herself, May was the unknown, the unpredictable (was fear of the unknown also cause for her occasional bouts of self-hatred? Probably not). As long as May had no helmet, no shield between her weak flesh and the powerful stares like loaded guns, there would be no respite.

Her friends were there, waiting. Watching. May averted her gaze. The doctor spoke, but not to her, to her vastly more competent and sane crew. They talked over her like she wasn’t there at all, like she was an animal or commodity. That was okay. May didn’t want to be responsible for everything. Let them decide her fate for now. They had come back, they wouldn’t leave her now.

Maybe. Did they know how much she still hungered for the familiar mist? Did they know that the difficult part was still in front of her? No, they didn’t. The people of the future didn’t even know that smoking killed.

There were so many people in the lobby. And they stared- oh, they STARED. May couldn’t look in their general direction, she felt like a museum exhibit. She stared at the floor, she saw her two feet and the third one that wasn’t anymore because of her stupidity and drug-induced recklessness. She could still feel the scalding gazes, nothing but contempt and pity, reducing her to a deranged asylum patient when she was, in truth, so much more. The drugs had gotten her here. They had reduced her to such a state, stripping away all the nuance and layers and leaving behind an idiot which flapping arms and ridiculous eyebrows. No one would ever notice her eyebrows anymore, now that her smile stole all the attention.

Once upon a time, May would’ve done anything to be rid of her adoptive parents forever, rid of the attention her eyebrows brought her, adventuring in space. However, context mattered. Now, she would do anything to go back.

Her arms flailed like flags in the wind, wild and uncontrollable. She tapped one foot against the floor, trying to distract from the feeling of mounting stares. Then she tripped and fell, because her balance wasn’t like it used to be.

“You alright, captain?” Parvati appeared above her “Can I help you up?”

May shook her head (well, bumped it against the floor in two directions) and looked away as she stood up.

“Let’s go,” the engineer ushered her out while the others were still talking with the very irate doctor (wonder why he’s so pissed) (obviously it can’t have anything to do with me hallucinating Betty and trying to murder him).

The Groundbreaker was busy, as usual. It seemed like it was always night aboard the space station, what with the stars so close, yet deceptively far away.

“So, you clean now?” Parvati asked after taking a few strides.

May shook her head. There were so many people, like a sea where she could suffocate with no one hearing her screams. An endless tide of humanity awaited her, ready to drown her down. She hid from the infinitely vast universe behind the only barrier she could find - Parvati’s shoulder.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” said Parvati and made no move to detach the captain from her shoulder “The people aren’t looking. They have better things to do.”

May didn’t believe her, but didn’t look for confirmation of her fears.

“Hey!” Felix caught up with them, evidently not having the attention span for small-talk “You headin’ out already? It’s like you two are trying to sneak away, ‘catch us if you can, you overpriced medbay people!’ Captain, have you ever watched Charlotte’s Angels?”

May shook her head, still hiding behind Parvati, bent over to seem small and harmless.

“She’s feeling a little shy,” the engineer explained “because of what happened to her face. I’ve taken up the role of human shield.”

“I can help out too!” Felix was all too enthusiastic to ‘protect’ the captain from the other side “Ain’t nobody gonna see your face, boss! Only we may know what truly lies under the mask.”

(awwww)

May tried to keep her face impassive, but her smile still widened, spreading all over her skin like she didn’t have any cheeks at all. Her imperfection was open for everyone to see. But her friends didn’t care, they didn’t even look at her, not because they were ashamed, but because they didn’t care.

“Charlotte’s Angles is, like, about those three girls on a spaceship who fight crime!” Felix started explaining “They’re secret angles and the tv series has fourteen episodes right now. Boss, you really should watch.”

May nodded.

“What about you, Parvati?” Felix continued “Wanna come with us?”

“Sure,” she nodded (why do I have the sneaking suspicion that it is due to her not having anything better to do, not genuine interest?).

The ship seemed almost exactly the same, even though May felt like she had been gone for so long.

“Welcome back, captain,” ADA greeted her “I hope your vacation was enjoyable.”

(ha ha. Very funny) The woman looked away. ADA could see her anyway, she was sure of it. May tugged Parvati on the sleeve.

“What do you need?” she made an effort not to look her captain in the face.

May tapped on the side of her head.

“Your helmet?” guessed Parvati “But you lost it, remember?”

“Don’t worry, boss, you can borrow mine!” Felix appeared to help out “Let me just get it from my room . . .”

He left in a hurry, May trailing behind (ADA can see me from everywhere and every angle). Parvati remained and the captain could overhear her conversing with the robot. Felix’s room was, predictably, in disarray. May couldn’t fathom how he could find anything in such a mess. Then again, it wasn’t like her own room was organized any better.

“Here you go,” he found a helmet after a while of rummaging in a pile of trash that wouldn’t look out of place in a landfill.

May fitted it on and gave the double thumbs up.

“You hungry, captain?” he asked.

May nodded eagerly.

A little too eagerly, she soon came to realize. Cooked shoelaces were still cooked shoelaces no matter how much ketchup they were seasoned with. Felix’s insistence on them being two different things didn’t help matters at all. May pushed her plate away and Felix slurped the noodles down without a single complaint. Her adoptive bastards always complained when she couldn’t swallow any of their awful cooking. It wasn’t her choice to activate the gag reflex when something textured like cold washed wool came into her mouth.

Tired of watching Felix drink spaghetti, May wandered off. Her room hadn’t changed much. Her teddy bear was still there, as was the drawing pad. Her armor (well, the remains of it) were laid out neatly on the bed. Fixed. May sighed. So they had touched her stuff while she was away. And the inhaler?

The inhaler.

Where had they put it?

Where was May’s supply?

She felt her skin itch and crawl. Her legs took her over to the chest where she usually kept her stuff. The mist was gone, though her necklace, toy rocketships and earrings were undisturbed. May looked everywhere - under the table, the chair which didn’t spin, behind the drawers and crates, next to the bed. Nothing. Her inhalants are gone.

But they must be somewhere. The familiar atmosphere emboldened the girl. She stalked through the empty hallways, searching. Still, there was nothing. Nothing and no one.

“Captain, Ellie sold your inhalants,” ADA informed her.

May jumped and put her hands over her ears. It was much too similar to living with Betty, not knowing when or where she would jump out and ruin everything.

ADA said nothing more, content with simply watching and observing every step.

May tried to shake off the feeling of being followed and judged, constantly, without respite. She needed to find her friends. She couldn’t be alone right now. It was so dark, so cold. She wanted to hear laughter and see smiles, but not her own broken giggles and twisted grin. And yet she was a burden, kept alive purely out of pity. Sooner or later the sympathy Felix and Parvati had for her would expire. Sooner or later there would come a limit to their altruism.

May hurried back to her room and bent over the large chest. She retrieved a model spaceship, one of the most precious things she had. It was like the rockets (and UFOs) on Betty’s crib - things she could never have as a child. Sure, she had had her own room and her own toys, but not the ones she liked. Never the ones she liked. Any goodwill Brian and Bertha may have harbored towards her didn’t matter when they denied the depravity of their daughter and allowed her monstrous ways to grow unchecked.

May ran back to the lovely kitchen with its lights and shelves. Felix sat by- or, rather, on the table, skimming through a comic with his greasy fingers. The book was old and worn, the date 2351 visible on its cover.

“What’s up?” he noticed her and put the comic away.

May held up the rocketship for him to take.

“Awww,” he took it into his fingers, prodding and poking “I wish I had these kinds of toys when I was a kid.”

“............me too,” May found her voice “you can take it apart.”

“We have so much in common,” he patted the table next to him “Come, sit with me.”

May heaved herself onto the table, letting her feet hang loose. Felix started disassembling the toy. May watched every piece, almost certain that he would lose something. As soon as the model spaceship became a pile of unrecognizable parts, Felix began putting it together again. The only sound was the rhythmical beating of May’s soles on the chair.

“The show will start soon, unless the broadcasting bastards decide to mess with the schedule again,” Felix noted.

The toy began taking shape in his hands. Felix smiled, chuckling lightly.

May felt warm and fuzzy. She was in good company. She drank in the details of her friend’s smile and grinned back.

Behind the helmet she could pretend that it was the same light smirk as his, not a mutilated mockery of a facial expression.


	40. Good morning, captain!

“Captain, you have received two communication requests from Phineas Welles,” ADA informed May just as she was about to have fun drawing.

“I’ll come over in a sec,” she put down the pad and skipped down the stairs, nearly tripping every other step.

May certainly wasn’t as agile as she used to be. Wonder if the drugs had anything to do with it? No, probably not. That would be silly.

“Call him back, ADA,” ordered May as she sat down in her throne of command.

She gave it a spin, but felt dizzy and stopped barely short of the second turn. Probably had nothing to do with her addiction recovery either. It took awhile for Phineas to pick up the signal. May even started to feel guilty for waking him.

“There you are, assistant,” he picked up the call “Now that I have what I need, I’ll contact a smuggler acquaintance of mine. Which means that you get to do more of my dirty work! Fun, no?”

“Just as fun as opening a door to find six armored thugs behind it,” May agreed.

“Catch is, you’re going to Byzantium! Don’t let the marble and golden toilet seats fool you - it’s just as much of a wretched hive as Fallbrook,” Phineas continued “The Byzantines are like dragons - hoarding treasure in their cave, not letting the workers even see those who stole all their money.”

“Byzantium,” the captain repeated “How smart of them to name their shining achievement after an empire that already fell. Will this new empire fall in one final siege too?”

“You know so much the rest of Halcyon has forgotten,” Phineas leaned forward “Even I’m unaware of anything but the recent past. Do tell me more about this empire.”

“Oh, um, it’s just something I learned in school,” May flinched “I can’t remember much of anything. Really, I can’t tell you anything.”

“Statistics show that students forget 99% of what they learned within one year of graduation. Which means that it would be statistically more unusual if you could actually tell me what you had learned,” he assured her “Speaking of a certain resort for the rich and famous - you’ll be meeting my smuggler friend in the docking bay. She knows where you can find dimethyl sulfoxide.

You won’t see any marauders in Byzantium, but the police there will be more than willing to escort you to a resort for the dissident and destitute for the smallest of provocations. Unless you’ve managed to procure a large amount of money to throw at them or cleaned the boots of Board officials spotless with your spit. Now, I’m not saying you’re incapable of that, just it would seem incredibly unlikely.”

“Dimethyl sulfoxide? Sounds like gibberish,” (sounds like a lie) the former lab assistant said in disbelief “What does it do?”

“Well, it’s very rare, expensive and does SCIENCE!” he explained “To be more specific, it’s what I used to revive you from your seventy-year nap. Given how small you are, I’ll need a bit more to revive the other colonists - all three hundred thousand of them.”

“Guess I’m really going up against the Board in all their might,” May sighed “I might become just another tombstone or martyr, but heck it. I’ll destroy them all and the order they so desperately tried to build. All those stupid corporations and their stupid brands. Did they think they could escape judgment by just going to space?!”

“What you lack in skill, you more than make up in enthusiasm,” Phineas smiled wider than usual “Oh, nice helmet. Aramid Ballistics, isn’t it? They can have their brands, I prefer brandy, so they branded me a traitor. Just in the past week, my bounty has risen astronomically! Those newbie spacers are racing to the ends of the system to cash in such a stellar sum.”

“Careful there, if you get caught you’re getting branded way more literally,” May giggled “You’ve been on the run for what, thirty years? That’s three decades of the Board working together against a common enemy.”

“True, but I’ve never been able to endanger them before now,” he paused, then added in a humorous tone “Though my most recent experiment has gone in a radically different direction than expected - still trying to figure out whether for the better or for the worse.”

May nodded. It was much easier to talk now, without having to bother with facial expressions.

“What exactly happened to the Hope?” May asked the question that had been bugging her for a long time “Why didn’t it arrive?”

“As you can see, I’m not a capitalist, so I can’t say,” Phineas refused to answer “I would put my money on the Board sabotaging the ship and capitalizing on the resulting population being primarily composed of morons.”

Ah yes. The good old conspiracy theory. Where had May heard that one before?

“Have you been experimenting on reviving the colonists for a long time?” May continued asking the questions that mattered.

Phineas paused and the captain could just about catch a glimmer of trepidation in his eye “For the past thirty-five years. I was originally of quite good standing and high rank - won’t find any data about that now, the swine deleted it all to protect their backsides - when the Hope arrived, a little late.

But that was all okay, because the Board covered it’s arrival up to protect their backsides and cash from all the people who would want the colonists revived. Start seeing a pattern yet? Anyway, I tried to revive the colonists, but they got on my case to protect their backsides. I was left to hang out in this podunk space bunker that I call home. Now, finally, the Board cannot protect themselves and everything they’ve done bites them in the ass! Or should I say asses? That doesn’t sound as good.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t,” May nodded several times, mainly for the sense of comfort “Gotta ask, though . . . why me? Why me of all the scientists and engineers and people who didn’t become addicts at twelve?”

“Firstly, the profiles on board were extremely helpful - what with them only displaying some random stats - secondly I had limited time to I pick out my subject, just about a few dozen minutes before the corporate swine boarded the ship. Thirdly, I liked your smile on the profile. Shame what happened to it,” he explained “I had no idea you were an addict! My, what a good way to incriminate yourself. I hope it’s sorted out, at least?”

“Yeah, that was over seventy years ago,” May lied “Haven’t inhaled anything in like half a century.”

“And here I was, getting worried,” Phineas chuckled “Of course you’ve got everything under control.”

“No,” she shook her head “I’m just a lab assistant who never got to work. I mean, my student loan is gone now, but it hardly matters when I’m suddenly overthrowing the corporate order and fighting literal alien monsters. I don’t have anything under control. Never will.”

“I’m sure you can figure something out using the scientific method,” he assured her, seeming to not even listen to her worries “Your enthusiasm will go a long way.”

“Alright,” May suddenly felt anxious to sulk in a corner “Bye, Phineas. I’m looking forward to reviving the dead with you.”

“Better to start necromancy late than never. Have fun,” he ended the exchange.

May stared at the empty screen for a while, before collecting herself. The betrayal vibes were strong.

“Shall I set course for Byzantium?” ADA asked.

“Is everyone on board?” May wondered.

“Of course they are,” ADA confirmed “It’s three in the morning.”

May cursed her inability to tell the time. Where were sunsets and sunrises when she needed them?

“Shall I set course for Byzantium?” the robot still needed to ask.

May nodded.

“We will arrive in approximately two days,” concluded ADA.

“And to be more precise?” May pressed.

“According to my calculations, twenty-six hours,”

Well, that was far time less than seemed at first.

May got off the chair to resume her drawing. But alas, her mind strayed to the inhaler, completely unable to focus on the pad. She wandered down the dark halls of the ship, searching fruitlessly for her inhalants. No one was there to stop her, even though ADA was watching. Surveilling. Either the AI was having a lapse in her eternal vigilance or she simply didn’t care enough to stop May. Of course she wouldn’t care for the shoddy and useless replacement of Captain Hawthorne. Of course it wouldn’t matter to her if the captain was May or Ellie or Parvati, or even Felix.

May decided that a nap would make her feel better. That was all well and good, but she couldn’t actually fall asleep. So she tossed and turned in the bed she had made, sweating like she was doing sport. Eventually, she did pass out from exhaustion (gee, who would’ve thought that staying up for 20 hours straight would be unhealthy?). Eventually.

May awoke rudely to the sounds of bickering in the kitchen. She let out a swear so unholy and repugnant, that the universe itself felt the need to censor it with a large bang in the background.

“Attention, crew: you will be experiencing minor turbulence for about 20 minutes,” ADA interrupted “It is recommended that you remain seated and put away all loose objects.”

May got up and stumble-crawled into the kitchen.

“. . . so as I was taking out the soup pot, suddenly the ship lurched-” May couldn’t hear the rest “-all the beans are everywhere, stars, it’s such a waste!”

“Wouldn’t have expected you to make such a mess, Parvati,” Ellie replied disapprovingly “And if this couldn’t get any worse, here’s our captain. How much did you drink?”

“I’m not a drunkard,” said May. And had a realization.

“!!!!” screeched May as she raced back to find her helmet, occasionally falling (from grace) along the way.

“There goes our captain,” sighed Ellie, before continuing to scold Parvati on the mess “Those beans aren’t even the worst part! What about this pan? What happened to it?! Why is it down there?! The laws of physics forbid that!”

(well, the laws of physics forbid skip drives, but look how far we’ve come)

For some reason, May didn’t want to return to her crew, even while wearing the helmet.

The inhalants were still missing.


	41. Heart-to-Head

“Who’s gonna clean all this up?!” Ellie went on with her lecture “Not me, that’s for sure! Now we’ll need to cash in some unholy sum to get a new pan!”

Parvati, who looked like she was choking on an extremely venomous snake, whimpered quietly “I’ll clean, don’t worry. I-I mean, we could ask Lilya Hagen for a new job. Could we?”

“Might I suggest a calming sip of cold tap water?” suggested ADA “Or perhaps I could sing you a lullaby?”

“What did you-” Ellie stopped in her tirade “Wait, don’t-”

“Twiiiiinkle twinkleeee liiiitle starrrr . . .” began ADA in a distorted metallic voice “Shall I continue?”

“No thank you,” the medic shuddered and looked back at Parvati “. . . I’ll help you clean.”

“Really? I can do it myself, if you’d rather not,” whispered the poor sensitive soul and began wiping the floor with a dishrag.

“Thanks for helping me out,” said Parvati as she climbed down the cargo bay ladder (gotta fix it someday) to the trash compactor.

“Crewmember Ellie was being overzealous,” answered the bot “Given how much she sleeps at night, I cannot blame her.”

“She might be kinda an asshole, but she’s our asshole,” Parvati incinerated the trash and walked back.

In the kitchen, she found Ellie napping on the table, serene and calm for once. Parvati let her be and quietly removed the rest of the beans from the floor and wiped a few bean-stains from the ceiling. The turbulence subsided, like there hadn’t been any at all.

“Good morning, gals!” Felix walked into the room, yawning “Slept well? Woah, why is the floor wet?”

“WHO DARES DISTURB MY SLUMBER?!” Ellie woke a little out of sorts.

“Crewmember Ellie, I implore you to rest,” ADA helped out “Or I will start singing the lullaby to help out.”

Ellie sighed in an intellectual way and shuffled out of the way like a reanimated corpse.

“Um, could you help me dry the floor?” Parvati asked her only male friend “If you wanna . . .”

“Sure thing,” Felix said and left, returning with a broom. He began mopping with great enthusiasm.

“You’re holding it the wrong way,” the engineer remarked.

Felix gave the broom a disapproving look and turned it in his hands, briefly twirling it like a katana.

“Is the noise gone?” May whispered, helmet on “Can I help you two?”

“Oh, uh, you could cook?” suggested the hammerer of bolts and skulls “Do you know how to cook, though?”

“It can’t be any worse than what you can cook up, so no worries,” assured the captain and got to work.

The three enjoyed a wholesome family meal of misshapen pieces of mock apple and half a pack of Rizzo’s Purpleberry Canned Soup (now with 15% extra sugar!).

“Where are we going, captain?” Parvati broke the tense sound of chewing.

“Byzantium,” May said gravely (oh you and your showiness) “It’s a mission. We’re really taking the fight against the Board. I’m . . . unsure how I feel about that.”

“Aw yeah! The revolution calls!” Felix saluted. Well, attempted to.

“Ellie’s gonna be livid,” Parvati sighed “What’s gotten into her recently?”

“Insomnia, most likely,” ADA answered.

“I can always kick her out,” May shrugged “Or persuade her to leave. With my pistols that- ohh wait. We don’t have those anymore.”

“Guess we’re going shopping,” suggested Parvati “Will be a bit difficult to go lootin’ in the most heavily defended area of Halcyon.”

“I should’ve thought of that before,” May facepalmed “I’ll have to rely on you guys for a while.”

“No problem, captain,” Felix smiled.

They cleaned up the food and May volunteered to do the dishes. Which wasn’t a very wise decision, as the captain soon found out. The plates were slippery bastards who almost escaped her grasp many times. But like any criminal scum, they were soon caught and shoved back into their cell (or cupboard, in this case).

The captain swiftly moved on and found Parvati staring wistfully at the workbench.

“If only I had more spare parts,” she sighed, waxing wistfully.

“Remember how I promised to teach you to draw?” May chimed in “Do you still wanna learn?”

“Sure,” she stood up and followed May to the captain’s quarters (seems a bit weird without context) (we’re not doing anything like that I swear!).

“So, um, do you know how to hold the pad and the drawing stick?” the captain sat Parvati down “Yeah, like that, do you know how to change the settings?”

“Never used any before,” Parvati poked the pad with the pole “Edgewater wasn’t important enough for this to get shipped.”

“Hopefully that’ll change with everyone not dying of starvation,” said May “So, this button is for color, this one is for thick lines, this panel here makes them thicker, that menu is for color and-”

“Woah, I’m confused already,” Parvati threw her hands up “So, this slider adjust the thickness?”

“No, it’s for the brightness of the screen, thickness is the other one,” she pointed with her finger (gotta clip my nails sometime).

“Okay,” Parvati continued with her poking “And how do I draw? Do I just . . . put the stick down and drag it across?”

“That’s the gist of it, yes,” May nodded “I wish I had a chair too.”

“That could be easily rectified if you had the necessary bits,” ADA chimed in. May tried her hardest not to flinch. She succeeded, for once.

“Maybe you shouldn’t rub in the captain’s spending habits at every opportunity?” offered Parvati “Just a thought, maybe it would help her improve if she wasn’t being insulted all the time?”

“Your argumentation is flawed, but I’m uncertain of my victory in a dispute,” said the robot and let them be.

The line Parvati created was mostly straight (despite her being gay) (May! Your humor is as tasteless as it is offensive!) (whoops. Glad I didn’t say anything, then) and blue.

“I though it’d be black,” the novice stared.

“I thought that too,” said May and leaned closer “Here, let me change it.”

“Alright,” Parvati continued trying out lines “So, what does this button do?”

“It’s the ‘undo’ button,” explained May “You press it, that last line is gone.”

“Ooh,” the engineer nodded “Neat. and the other one?”

“It redoes that which you’ve deleted in case you have a change of heart,” said the captain, feeling tired.

Parvati created a slightly wonky triangle and made a few more lines because she lacked the imagination to do anything else.

“Maybe you could draw in your room?” May asked, fatigued from excessive social interaction.

“Sure thing, captain,” some people recognized her need for space, at least.

Parvati left and May lay in her bed. She thought about drawing, then remembered the lesson. Oh well. She didn’t have the energy for creative work anyway. May focused on staring at the ceiling. After a while of such entertainment, she heard a polite knock on the door.

“Come in,” said May, unwilling to get up herself.

“If I’ve drawn something, how do I save it?” Parvati tiptoed inside.

“The button on the top left,” the captain answered from memory.

“Thanks,” Parvati nodded and moved her stick (of truth) “Wait, why does it say deleted?”

“Wrong left,” concluded the real artist.

Parvati frowned.

“Sorry about that,” May sat up like a mummy emerging from a fancy coffin (you can call it sarcophagus all you want, but I know better. It rhymes with asparagus) “You can draw something else, if you wanna.”

“I’m a bit tired of drawing for today,” she disagreed and put the device onto the desk “If you don’t mind . . . can I chat with Jun?”

“Sure,” May stood “But don’t tell her where we’re going! It might compromise the mission.”

“Okay,” Parvati chewed her lip “Getting serious now, this mission of ours.”

“Like it wasn’t serious before,” May scoffed “Remember when Ellie amputated my foot?”

She cringed from the memory.

“You’re probably right,” Parvati turned to the comm terminal “Never been to Byzantium. Pretty sure I’ll be the first from Edgewater to do so. I wish I could bring my dad postcards.”

“.....me too,” whispered May “Like to think he’d be proud in me. But I dunno. Never will.”

“I wonder about that too,” the engineer paused “Would my dad condemn throwing myself in danger or would he be pleased that I get to do all kinds of things he couldn’t have even dreamed about?”

“You says you never met your mom,” May continued the extremely depressing conversation “Why not? Did you tell me? Can’t recall.”

“My parents weren’t bound by marriage contract,” explained the mechanic. May nodded in understanding. “So it was deemed unprofitable for my mother to raise me. I don’t know who she is.”

“She’s awful,” concluded May “if she were actual loved you, she have had fought to keep baby. But she didn’t. Let you go.”

“It’s not that simple,” Parvati too started getting teary-eyed “She couldn’t have against the whole company and code of conduct. It’s the way of life here - nothing unprofitable gets to continue.”

“You say this for good-er feeling,” the captain continued “It is hard of believe into bad mother. Thought mine would come back. She hasn’t. Went to prison for attempted murder instead.”

“Who did she try to kill?” Parvati blinked.

“Me,” she stated “Threw me from car. Moving car. I were small. Fit outta window.”

“......” said Parvati.

“......” said May “I should go maybe?”

“. . . let’s continue the talk some other time,” agreed the engineer, turning to stare back at the screen.

May slipped out, shoving a hand up her helmet, wiping her eyes. A somewhat better-rested Ellie came her way.

“Good evening,” she, unlike a certain someone, could actually tell the time (or maybe she just had an alarm clock, May wasn’t gonna root in another’s room to find out) “Where is our fine craft headed?”

“Byzantium,” said May, having regained coherent speech (be a lot more awkward if I didn’t) “Do they sell postcards there?”

“Yes, actually. It’s full of rich people, why wouldn’t they?” said Ellie “While we’re there . . . could we visit my parents?”

“Your parents are alive?!” exclaimed May.

“Why would they be dead and why would you expect them to be dead?!” exclaimed Ellie “Oh, wait . . .”

“We’re not dating and you seem to hate me,” she took a step back “Why would you take me to meet them?”

“I was actually thinking of taking Felix too,” the medic confused her buddy even further “You’re crazy and he’s a moron, which would leave the worst possible impression on mother and father.”

“So they’re those kinds of parents,” May deduced with her superb people skillz “I’m game.”

“Seems like you’ve got experience,” Ellie made a deduction of her own “What would be the most effective way to piss them off?”

(Ellie, the self-proclaimed genius, asking MY opinion? What has the world come to?)

“I’ll throw a tantrum and pee on their carpet?” proposed May “You know, like a cat? Wait, you don’t know what those are.”

“I don’t recall them having rugs,” Ellie shook her head “Try rolling on the floor in hysterics. That should feel genuine. I’ll go ask Felix now.”

With every passing hour, the stay in Byzantium was gearing up to become more and more interesting, that was for sure.


	42. The City and the Thugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I feel like the only people who read my story are the 11 subscribers it has. Which is nice.  
I also wonder how I still have any after the whole fiasco with chapters 20-30. They're so bad I'm afraid to touch them myself lol.

“Felix, I think you should stay on the ship,” said Ellie as they prepared to land in Byzantium “At least for a while.”

“You’re not going to meet your family right away?” he sounded surprised, but not angry.

“We’re going on a heist first,” explained May “You aren’t stealthy.”

“I hope you’ll be back by evening, or you’ll miss the next episode of Charlotte’s Angels, captain” he said “Have fun with the revolution!”

The smuggler was (very conveniently) waiting in the docking bay. Her name was Carmen (where have I seen this before?) and she liked birds (ah, so an intellectual then). Turned out, some rich minister guy was hoarding the dymethil something in his basement.

Byzantium was built using less shoddy materials than the rest of Halcyon and the houses didn’t look prefabricated, but that was about it. Oh, and the prices were higher too. Otherwise, nothing out of the ordinary. May was probably the only one who thought that, given how Parvati’s eyes went wide and she her head started turning round and round like a wind turbine. Ellie didn’t seem to care at all for the architecture or the bombastically dressed locals.

The minister lived in a house with about two dozen guards (ooh, minister’s got a harem!) who wouldn’t let the totally harmless and not-dissident strangers in, but let it slip that they were expecting a delivery. The three not-thugs made their way to the postal building, thanks mainly to Ellie’s knowledge of the street layout. They didn’t even pick up any quests along the path!

“Minister Clarke sent us,” explained May (wow, you seem so legit) “We’re here to pick up his parcel.”

“Of course, of course,” said the front desk lady, ignoring the mismatched Spacer’s Choice and Aramid Ballistics armor the trio were wearing “Just as soon as this form is filled out and I get approval from my superiors. That should take about five months. I’ll call you back.”

“My dearest lady, I’m sure you can understand that the Minister wants his package now,” May tried persuasion “I’m sure he will exhibit the greatest of generosity at such a service.”

“How kind of him, but my boss will have none of that,” the woman declined.

The three extremely unsuspicious grunts left, disgruntled. They wandered aimlessly, until conveniently stepping into a bar. The drinks were distributed by robots. May liked the place already. There, a poor bloke was celebrating becoming a guard.

“Truly?” it was Ellie’s turn to play the game of persuasion “I’ll get drinks to celebrate, then.”

After two and half bottles of Rizzo’s Spectrum Vodka, Ellie was drunk and the guard was dead. He couldn’t hold his liquor, after all.

“Whoops,” said May, groping all his pockets “Guess we’ll have to go quickly. Oh look, a key.”

“His haircut is stupid,” said a slightly inebriated Ellie “Are we going to meet my parents?”

“No, we’re going to visit the minister,” said May, steering her buddy the other way “Now, stop shambling like a zombie, that’s rude.”

“Heck if I care,” grumbled the older woman “If the minister has a problem, he can talk to my shotgun.”

“He has over twenty armed guards,” reminded Parvati.

“Eh, we’ve killed more,” Ellie saw no danger.

“But these actually know how to shoot straight,” the engineer pointed out the primary difference between marauders and guards “and they maintain their armor.”

Ellie muttered something incomprehensible and stumbled on smooth pavement. May sighed.

“Actually, perhaps you could wait for us?” suggested Parvati “On the ship, for example?”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Ellie pouted like a rebellious teen “I’m coming with you.”

“Then at least don’t talk,” commanded May “Also, I’m your captain. You can always leave if you’re unhappy.”

“Whatever,” grumbled the medic, trying to not lag behind.

The guards on the porch and the lawn were discussing something in very loud tones. May could just about make out “fucking Alicia with her soggy scarf”, but she really had no idea what this woman had done to provoke the ire of six trained soldiers.

May turned the key and entered. Parvati held the holographic shroud. Inside were many more guards, but they ignored the new arrivals. Ellie did her best not to stumble. The house was full of marble and other white rock. Boring, like the rest of Byzantium. May found nothing interesting to draw. She’d have to visit the crumbling ruins of Monarch again for inspiration.

The minister was a little less than thrilled to meet more thugs. He reacted with appropriate loudness. May resisted the urge to cover her ears (as well as the urge to hit the man until he stopped yelling).

“We mean you no harm, sir,” explained Parvati “We’re just here for the dimethyl sulfoxide.”

“Of course,” said minister Clarke and resumed yelling “I DO NOT HAVE DRUGS. DRUGS ARE NOT HERE. FIND ANOTHER PLACE.”

“Is dimethyl sulfoxide a drug?” May wondered “I heard it’s for reviving people from cryosleep. You don’t have it?”

“NO I DO NOT HAVE DRUGS-” he stopped to look at the trio “So you don’t want to get high? Hmm, well, that’s a different matter entirely.”

“Could you point us in the right direction, at least?” asked Parvati “We heard you’ve been hoarding this stuff for your own ends, so we came to check it out.”

“I suspect my colleague, Chairman Rockwell, has embroiled me in one of his schemes again,” Clarke’s demeanor took a 180 turn “The Lifetime Employment Program, I believe it’s called. No, I don’t have what you’re looking for.”

He proceeded to explain how he was actually a puppet and fall guy in house arrest. The program had something to do with the Ministry of Accuracy and Morale. May tuned out halfway through and allowed Parvati to take notes.

“Could you do me a favor?” he asked after finishing his lecture “I had an office in the ministry. I’ll need you to enter it - using slightly illegal means - and send a message to Earth. I can give you the key.”

“Sure thing,” (oh great, another quest) said May “I hope your- the guards won’t stop us as we leave. The disguises are really shoddy.”

Clarke handed her the key “I can already see that, yes. You’re dissidents, aren’t you? Strange, I’ve never heard that they take notes.”

“Seems like you haven’t seen a lot of dissidents in your life, minister,” remarked Ellie.

“No, no, I haven’t,” he smiled in a way that was probably supposed to be friendly “I just read ‘dissident hunter’ from time to time. Being confined in this way isn’t very entertaining. The hired thugs- oh, pardon me, guards are hardly worthy conversation partners. Tell me, where do you come from? I’ve wanted to see a survey of particularly disobedient regions for quite some time, but the only one I have is 20 years out of date.”

“Edgewater,” said Parvati.

“The house next door,” said Ellie, not even slurring.

“I’m an android from the past, sent to destroy the corporate order,” lied May “I was created back on Earth, then sent here as a literal sleeper agent. Now I have awoken and either I or the corporate order will not survive this decade.”

“How curious,” he nodded “Such a variety of backgrounds! An unremarkable worker, an android and a fallen Byzantine! They don’t talk about the corruption of the youth for nothing. Do explain, though, what is an android?”

“Like a mechanical, but looks totes human,” said May “You never know when a person is one.”

“And those were made on Earth?” Clarke raised an eyebrow “You’re that old?”

“You can bet she is,” confirmed Parvati “93 years old, to be precise.”

“I’ve aged remarkably well,” giggled May “But we have stuff to do. Can’t spend the whole day talking, you know.”

“Of course. I understand,” he seemed saddened by that “Don’t incriminate yourselves now.”

The trio of dissidents left, the guards staring at them suspiciously. Thankfully, none had overheard the conversation. Ellie stumbled on the stairs, almost bringing May down with her.

“And the minister believed you!” the medic burst out laughing as soon as they were out of earshot for the thugs “He believed you! An android? Hah!”

May laughed with her. Even Parvati giggled into her hand.

“Where is this ministry of curses and mortality?” asked May.

“Of Accuracy and Morale,” corrected Parvati “I don’t think we should go there now.”

“Why not?” wondered May.

“Well, Ellie seems pretty drunk to me,” said Parvati “And the guards looked at us suspiciously . . . feels like they’ll be expecting us.”

“Fair enough,” shrugged May and hooked an arm around Ellie “We’re going back to the ship for now. It’s that way.”

May looked up - the ships in the sky were big and decorated, not like the small scrap rockets in atmosphere above Edgewater. Then she stumbled, because staring at the sky while walking in tandem with your comrade was such a good idea. And fell, Ellie landing on top of her.

“Well now, this is awkward,” Ellie breathed into her ear, smelling of sweat and vodka.

“Ew, get off,” said May.

“I’m sleepy,” Ellie yawned “You’re soft.”

“I’m not your girlfriend, dammit!” May shoved her off (guess that strength stat was worth something, after all).

“I know, I’m straight,” agreed Ellie and reluctantly got up.

Parvati watched from the sidelines, blinking in confusion.

After depositing her buddies into the spaceport, May excused herself and went on an adventure. She found a nice building to lean against and started drawing the sky and spaceships. The hallowed Byzantine ground was boring, but the rooftops and sky were so darn cool, like really cool. The people regarded her with visible confusion and soon May felt like an exhibit, a freak to be ogled at (aren’t you, though?).

She began walking, hoping to outrun the stares. It worked, for a while. She wandered for a while, finding no private spots she could get into. She did find a nice little shop.

It was already darkening when she returned.

“Did I miss the show?” she asked Felix.

“Not yet,” he shook his head “Let’s go, boss.”

“Where’s Parvati?” she pondered.

“In her room, I think,” he shrugged.

May hurried to see her friend. She knocked on the door, hoping not to startle the engineer.

“Good evening,” said Parvati.

“I brought you postcards,” May offered her “You can bring them to your dad’s grave, if you want.”

“Thanks,” Parvati held them in her hands “What about you? Would you want some for your father?”

“He was never buried anyway,” May shook her head.

“Why not?” pried the older woman (I can’t believe she’s actually five years older than me).

“He wasn’t human. He was a robot,” the captain explained “Anyway, that’s was a long time ago. I’ll be watching TV if you need anything.”

Parvati nodded thoughtfully.


	43. Down memory lane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A good half of the tale comes from my personal experience with choking. Nothing graphic, but warning if that triggers you, I guess.

“I don’t think we should raid the Ministry anytime soon,” said Ellie when she had sobered up “We were a little too conspicuous.”

“Especially you,” agreed May “You almost tripped on the minister’s staircase, remember?”

Ellie laughed nervously “We should focus on improving our financial situation.”

“Yeah, we should,” May nodded “Let’s go poke around to see if, I dunno, someone needs rats exterminated.”

“You mean sprats,” corrected the older woman.

“Yeah, let’s go,” May was ready to spring into action.

“Let’s buy you a pistol first,” suggested the medic.

“Know any good places?” wondered the girl.

“Yeah. There was a gun store near my home,” she nodded “Let’s swing by my mother and father, shall we?”

“Felix!” May called “We’re leaving!”

“Stealing from the ministry?” he emerged, tossball stick in hand “Count me in! We’re gonna smash those fat cats and their machine of oppression!”

“No, we’re visiting my parents,” said Ellie “They’re just as greedy.”

“Aw, alright then,” his face fell “But still, we’re taking the fight against the Byzantines! That must count for something . . . right?”

“Hopefully we’ll find work to do,” May assured “Something fun.”

“I hope that too,” Felix said, following in the back.

“Oh how are my parents gonna react when they find out I’m hanging out with mental patients!” Ellie smirked “They’ll be so surprised how their perfect little surgeon turned out!”

Felix glanced at May. That wasn’t a very helpful gesture, because she was wearing a full-face helmet.

The Fenhill estate was a large white building like most in Byzantium (if they’re rich, why don’t they paint their walls?), with real windows and an ornate, gilded door. Ellie didn’t even bother knocking. May took off the helmet.

The vagabond’s parents were less than thrilled to have their daughter accompanied by a greasy guy in shoddy armor and a literal mental patient with an grin resembling the opening of a rucksack.

“Of course we’re very happy you’re back,” explained the mother, face white “But, see, we can’t allow you back. We had to tell everyone you’re dead, how can we go back now?”

“I’m sure the neighbors would be very happy to hear I’m alive,” spat Ellie, looking more like a disobedient child than anything “It’s not everyday somebody comes back!”

“But we would lose out on the insurance payments,” explained the father “How would we pay for the marble floor and silverware then? We’ll have to pretend you weren’t here. I’m sure you can understand, Marilyn. It’s just business.”

May flopped onto the floor with all her weight.

“Hey-!” that elicited an immediate response “Marilyn, get your acquaintance off the marble! I can see the grime on her clothing.”

“Sorry. Can’t do,” Ellie smirked “She’s not very good at taking commands.”

May continued laying on the floor like a cat. Felix spat at the table and missed, hitting a priceless ornate vase instead. To be fair, everything in the house was so expensive that absolutely no precision was required to hit something of value.

The three very legal individuals were promptly ushered out with a broom.

Ellie looked very pissed. That was an understatement, she looked like her spontaneous combustion was imminent.

“Would you like to talk about your feelings?” offered May meekly.

“Not right now,” answered Ellie venomously.

Like any venomous snake, she was better left alone.

“Let’s ask ‘round for work, then,” said Felix “You can stay on the ship if you need, Ellie.”

“No thank you. I’m not that fragile,” she spat.

May shrugged and took the lead. The trio stopped by a store, where the captain bought a pistol. It was supposed to be more durable than the Spacer’s Choice ones, but May wasn’t so sure about that.

The next stop was an extremely loud and vocal woman with a raging superiority complex. She ranted for a bit about how the poor were lousy and bad and immoral, but agreed to give May (a person of lower social standing!) a job. The job was simple: some time ago, the Board had decided to set up a lottery and bring the winners to live in Byzantium (which, given the Board’s hoarding habits, seemed anything but benign). Of course, the locals weren’t happy with their home becoming less secluded and exclusive, but wouldn’t demean themselves to some petty investigation.

So, May and her two bodyguards took an elevator down to the new district. The elevators of the future were notably rickety, even this one that was supposed to be elite. Perhaps all the impoverished workers who had become the first settlers of Halcyon simply never knew better. Never knew of better things that were attainable on Earth. Now none of their descendants would ever know. And to think that Phineas expected May to undo all that, to create an actual government, actual courts, a constitution, laws and justice! She didn’t even remember what she had learned in school on such matters.

The district was well-lit, but none of the houses had real doors. They were just props for show. What show? May walked down the path hundreds if not thousands had walked before, yet no trace remained of their presences. There was no bustle, no unintelligible snippets of faraway conversation, no clattering of openable windows, no footsteps except for those of the three investigators. Silence reigned supreme.

A shadow crept over a fake wall. In a flash, a creature peeked out, pickax in hand, ready to split skulls and cleave limbs. But no- it was just a service drone, holding a rake (hi, robot!). For some reason, May didn’t feel comfortable seeing someone so similar to her late father in this city of the dead. Why would a mechanical be here, in this fake paradise? Why would the Board waste their time and money on a facsimile rendition of many a worker’s dream? It seemed like something insidious lay in wait here.

May walked further into what she was now sure was a death trap, having no choice but to walk on the path to damnation, to certain doom. Silence coated her, the footfalls of the three adventurers the only sound to dare pierce the veil. She could barely sense them behind her, they seemed so far away. Neither Ellie nor Felix talked. Another robot appeared, clattering over their path, lawn mower blades and garden scissors appendages bobbing slightly. May briefly felt like she was three years old again, standing on an endless field with two people and a robot. It had been summer then. The field seemed very much flammable, now that she thought back to it.

Yet another elevator was in their path. May pressed the button and the doors closed with a resounding clang. Too late she realized that she had accidentally locked her friends out. The elevator was dark and silent, no music playing to send away the dead. She cocked the pistol. It felt unfamiliar in her grip, like it didn’t belong. May thought back to when her old pistol exploded. She was raiding a drug den. Ah yes. Their products had been quite-

The elevator opened.

May stepped out.

The floor was wet, but there was no sign.

Wet with blood.

May stepped on bone.

It crunched under her boot.

She tripped on someone.

The person was wearing a green sweater.

She looked up from the ground.

And saw him.

Her father.

He had three legs and a circular body that turned.

She was on a field.

An endless summer field that was always bright and never succumbed to winter or decay.

Summer was supposed to be a happy season.

Her father came closer.

He walked in slow motion.

No, it wasn’t him.

It wasn’t the field.

But she already knew what he was going to say.

He was many, the whole discontinued lineup.

They were all there.

It was all her fault they were dead.

If not for her story, they would still be considered safe.

They had guns.

They weren’t supposed to have guns.

No, these were the humans.

There to rescue her.

They aimed.

She was their enemy.

The daughter of their enemy.

She had to run-

But she was small and the field of grass was so wide- the cavern so dark and full of dead.

She stumbled up.

And looked down.

The dead woman had Betty’s face.

Betty was back.

Betty was angry.

The field- room belonged to ghosts.

May had no place there.

Not alive, at least.

Where could she run? The field was endless.

She had a gun too.

The saviors shot.

She shot.

Her father crumpled down.

He just wanted to protect his daughter.

May crumpled down.

She just wanted her dad- why could they leave her alone?

Dad- dad, he can’t be dead!

It would always end this way.

May hiccuped, then breathed.

Breathed in again.

And couldn’t

The men- robots fired.

May’s head smacked against the concrete.

She couldn’t see.

The blood was wet under her.

Betty’s dead eyes glared at her.

“You killed me!” she screamed “Monster! Monster!”

May wheezed.

She couldn’t answer.

The field was wet.

It had rained.

She wheezed.

Her chest jutted out, then fell back into place.

But that wouldn’t fill her lungs.

Her throat was wet.

It had rained.

Her chest was tight.

There was no room for air.

She put a hand on her neck.

She coughed.

Betty screamed into her ear.

May found she couldn’t.

She couldn’t-

There was no air.

There was no air.

There was nothing.

She couldn’t see.

There was nothing to hear.

Just footsteps and silence.

And gunshots.

HAM tried to resist in vain as his child was taken.

It would always end like that.

No matter what she did.

May wheezed- 

and nothing.

She tried.

She tried to breathe.

She had to cough it out.

But she couldn’t, not anymore.

Not anymore.

May looked.

She could see now, but the world blurred with every breath not taken.

A robot appeared before her.

HAM wanted to get rid of the girl before they got rid of him.

A child would only needlessly incriminate him.

Drag him down.

He was a free robot.

Free of his childcare subroutines.

Free of May.

And she was free of her bodily needs.

Would be.

As soon as the water became too much.

It had rained-

Why couldn’t-

-rained recently.

-couldn’t be him.

-Betty.

Would turning-

-friends?

-rained-

-no field.

-wet.

We get-

She-

HAM-

-hurt.

-we deserve.

-pressure-

-hurt-

-but-

-wait wait . . . wait . . . wait-

-wait-

-wait.


	44. Error 404

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in quarantine! Yay!  
Because of my 2 points in Computer Science skill, online school is super easy and utterly not confusing.

“How exactly did this happen?” was the first thing Parvati said when she saw her captain again.

“We may have gotten distracted and lagged behind,” explained Ellie, smiling inappropriately “And she may have taken an elevator to some killer robots alone. I would actually find this pretty funny, if I didn’t have to patch her up.”

Parvati looked at the unconscious woman and sighed. She heaved May over her shoulder and dragged her away. The captain wheezed and Parvati patted her on the shoulder. The engineer laid her friend down on the bed and looked the younger lass over. There were no outward signs of injury, aside from the bandages. May didn’t look peaceful in her sleep, she seemed in pain and unable to rest. Perhaps the state of her face had something to do with that, who knew?

May stirred, groaning as she tried to sit up. The bullet wounds in her chest didn’t help matters at all. Parvati rushed closer and propped up the very unlucky captain.

“Need anything, cap?” she asked.

“.....” said May.

“Would you like me to leave?” continued Parvati.

May shrugged, then started coughing. Parvati patted her on the back. May sighed.

“When I think of memories, they’re like moments of real in the past,” she began philosophising “Feels like everything else doesn’t exist.”

“I suppose I’ve felt the same,” Parvati was a little surprised at the outburst “Good thing you didn’t die, huh?”

May nodded, though without any real enthusiasm.

“At the same time, when I think of memories, I can’t quite comprehend that it was I there,” May continued on her tangent “Like I was less real then than I am now.”

“Interesting, but why are you telling me all this?” Parvati had to ask.

“I kinda had nasty flashback,” May explained “So, um, I thought it would be better if I talked. If you care to listen . . .”

“Go on,” encouraged the engineer.

May paused, wheezing again. Parvati steadied the younger woman as she coughed. Parvati expected blood, but thankfully none came.

“Started seeing my father,” she explained “Well, his dying.”

Parvati nodded, encouraging her friend to continue.

“Haven’t seen that in many year,” she said “But then I saw robots and it all come back. Feel scared that I see that again when more robots appear.”

“You can fight really well,” Parvati reassured her “And you’ve got me and Felix and Ellie to protect you.”

May nodded. Parvati put an arm over her shoulders. She noticed that her fiend now had an easier time talking about her feelings. The power of friendship was a force to be reckoned with.

“I go see if there’s any crackers left,” the captain made a motion to stand up.

Predictably, she slipped and fell right into Parvati’s arms.

(there are so many ways this could be interpreted wrong)

The mechanic quickly set her back down in bed.

“I’ll bring you something,” decided the engineer.

May smiled in a way that would’ve been reassuring if not for it being completely out of proportion. Parvati blinked. May, realizing her mistake, quickly hid her face in her hands.

“You don’t look so bad,” Parvati tried to cheer her up “Nothing worse that ol’ Pete, after he got mauled by primals.”

Both of them knew the reassurance was empty.

-

“-so, in the seventeenth issue, Black Phantom and Rizzo-man fought on top of a burning skyscraper in a sea of lava in hell!” Felix continued his tangent about the best comic book series of all time, no, seriously, read it!

“Actually, lava is so hot it sets you on fire before you even touch it,” May noted “The skyscraper would’ve melted a long time ago.”

“But then Rizzo-man used his Purpleberry Cologne and instantly became 30% more persuasive!” Felix exclaimed “He explained to Black Phantom the error of his dissident ways and converted him to the side of the corporate order! Phantom realized that he couldn’t resist the mind control anymore and so he dove into the sea of fire to die free. Man, I might have even cried at that as a little boy.”

“Wait, but Rizzo-man is the protagonist,” May noticed something awry.

“That’s what the greedy scum want you to think,” he protested “Haven’t read an issue since. Black Phantom was just such a compelling character! Wanted him to win all the way. Checked the shelves once to see if he was resurrected at any point, but he’s been replaced with some skanky lady called Dissidia and a mad scientist named Philip M. Welles. Sound familar, no?”

May nodded like she had actually been interested in the first place.

“Have you read a lot of comics?” he ended the rant.

“No, not really,” May shook her head “I mostly played video games with my pal Nate and drew. Have you ever seen an easel? It’s like a frame to put canvas on and draw - oh, wait, you don’t know what that is either . . .”

(oh, the burden of intelligence)

(remember how you tried to sneak inside a factory wearing a colorful curtain?)

(hey, it worked!)

(until I got shot, that is)

(oops)

“Sounds vintage,” Felix shrugged “Canvas sounds like some kind of food.”

“Yeah, it’s literally ancient, probably invented a thousand years ago,” May wasn’t very good with dates “It’s like paper - you’ve seen paper, haven’t you? - but it’s thicker, more like cloth.”

“And you can paint on that?” Felix raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, with a paintbrush,” said May, before realizing her friend had no idea what that was either “Like a pencil, but hairy on the end. You dip it into paint.”

“I’ve seen a few in my life,” Felix revealed his secret genius.

“Oh, um, sorry for assuming,” May cleared her throat.

“No big deal, you’re still from another time,” he waved dismissively “You’re a time traveler! A real time traveler! The circumstances weren’t the best or safest, but you managed! Oh, the irony - in messing with the Hope, those scum created their own doom . . . a shadow of the past, looking for vengeance! I wonder, what should you be called then? Maybe you could adopt the mantle of Black Phantom? I mean, you are black and you are pretty stealthy . . .”

“I don’t like how it sounds and I’d like to paint my armor white. Think it looks more scary that way - like bone and all that,” May shook her head “Perhaps I could be the Smiler?”

“People won’t see your smile,” remarked Felix.

“Not if I paint it onto the helmet,” countered May.

“I thought you wanted to hide your face,” the man was confused “Not expose it.”

“I like painting my stuff, so I figured I could look happy,” she shrugged “Besides, any smile that I paint will look so much better than the real deal.”

“I guess so,” he agreed “The Smiler sounds a bit like some evil clown, or something. I mean, you’re pretty funny and all, but that’s not particularly serious. Ooh, how about Starscryer? Dunno what it means, but you do come from a faraway star.”

“We all come from a faraway star,” disagreed May “Sounds lame. Maybe I could just be the Captain?”

“Captain who?” Felix paused “Captain Doom? Captain Death?”

May giggled “I’ll just be as I am. People will be afraid not of my costume or name, but of my deeds.”

“Well said, boss,” Felix gave her a nod of respect “So, um, what did Ellie say? You ready to move out?”

“Tomorrow, I think,” May recalled “I didn’t get hit that bad, just almost choked from the blood in my throat. Couldn’t cough it out, that’s why.”

“Sounds a little worse than ‘not that bad’,” Felix cringed “I would probably sleep on my side for a month after that.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

-

May sat in the kitchen, sipping a glass of . . . juice (yeah. Let’s call it that). She really didn’t want to know exactly what was inside. The lights were on, as usual. They were always on. For some reason. That reason probably had something to do with ADA, but May wasn’t in the asking mood.

“It’s edible?” Ellie entered and immediately expressed surprise at May’s choice in beverages.

“No, it’s not, I’m not eating it,” protested the captain.

Ellie shrugged and poured herself some ‘juice’ from the packet.

“I told the lady about the paradise on earth being built,” she began “After getting the payment, of course. I get the feeling we won’t be seeing her around.”

“Why though?” May asked “She was mean, sure . . .”

“Yeah and she had very interesting ideas about how to reduce poverty the last time I talked to her,” she spat “Like, oh, I don’t know, just killing off the unworthy and useless? Wonder if she saw the irony in her final moments. Probably not, given her level of intelligence.”

“You saw everything, didn’t you?” May sighed “All the . . . bodies?”

“Of course I did,” Ellie scoffed “I’m a doctor, not a therapist. I don’t want to talk about your feelings.”

“Well, I could listen to yours,” said May “I’m sure you have something to say.”

“If you insist,” she shrugged “My expectations were really crushed. I thought I could have some kind of dramatic reunion - you’ve watched the serials, haven’t you? - but my parents weren’t even shocked. Father just raised an eyebrow for a moment.”

“What did you expect?” May leaned closer, putting her cup away.

“I always imagined myself walking in alone - no offence to you or Felix - and loudly announcing my presence,” she dreamed “Mother would be seated on her favorite sofa - which they seem to have gotten rid of, didn’t see it anywhere - and father would be next to her in a chair, reading a newspaper. Probably the one about your exploits - “A Shadow over Halcyon”, I think the latest one was called. Those are fun, you should read ‘em someday.

Then my parents would turn, both at the same time. Father would drop his newspaper and mother gasp in surprise. “Marilyn?” she would ask, bewildered. “It’s Ellie now,” I’d announce. But I never really thought it through. I just wanted this satisfaction of doing something they hated. Now though, they only wanted to keep my insurance.”

“Burn their house down,” suggested May.

“They’d still get the money for faking my death,” Ellie shook her head “And if not them . . . then cousin Oliver.”

“Hah, Ollie!” the captain giggled “Rob them?”

“I was thinking of committing insurance fraud in return,” countered Ellie “I heard most insurance - even for byzantines - is handled in Fallbrook. Very trustworthy, I know. Listen, could we visit there soon? The less my parents get, the better. I could . . . offer some to you, captain, for your aid.”

“Don’t need your money,” May shook her head “Let’s get there right away.”

“Shall I set course for Fallbrook?” ADA announced her presence.

“Sure thing,” ordered the captain.

“You have 500 bits and yet you don’t want more money?” Ellie frowned “Don’t make a show out of your generosity now, captain. Fixing that face of yours won’t come cheap.”

“Not my money,” the girl still refused “You shouldn’t take it just to give it away. And anyway . . . I have a helmet. I can get face shots later, no?”

“I’m a little concerned this, eh, hyperactivity could damage the muscles, making it more difficult to eat and speak and whatnot. But I won’t press you, I’m not some hero,” Ellie shrugged “‘oh, please, just take my money, I can’t bear the thought of someone being slightly upset’ - hope I don’t sound like that.”

“Nah, that would be Pura Goodfellow, Good Doer extraordinaire!” May laughed “With her sword of pure light and pure golden heart, she flies to the rescue on her angel wings, petting puppies and bringing gifts to impoverished children!”

Ellie chuckled “In fact, she is so pure and righteous, that she pees rainbows and shits diamonds! That’s probably painful, but she’s too pure for that!”

The women laughed, sitting behind a dirty table, holding glasses of juice. Their friendship was so strong that the juice didn’t even have to be wine in disguise.


	45. Crime and Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The christmas special (yeah, remember it?) takes place after this chapter. Ignore the minor logical inconsistencies.

Fallbrook, as always, was filled with colorful characters and interesting sights. Within minutes of stepping down from the ship’s ramp, May had witnessed a robbery, public sex and a sprat with a nose piercing. She would likely never forget the sight of an animal with such a crude implement jammed into its flesh out of her mind. Such a terrible sense of fashion! Betty had wanted to get a nose ring before her perfectly-timed demise. How lucky for May that she had never gotten to witness such an atrosity at the tender age of twelve!

The captain followed Ellie to a very reputable-looking building, which handled insurance for those in Byzantium and beyond. The establishment was so reputable, in fact, that one of its windows was boarded up.

“Wonder what happened here,” May whispered to Ellie “I’m also completely unsurprised that your parents chose to get insured with those guys.”

“Someone must’ve gotten a bad deal,” she explained the situation “And yes, this place is perfect for mother and father, though I doubt they actually went here in person.”

The lady at the front desk, with boobs bigger than her brain, refused the two armed mercenaries looking for retribution.

“Out of the three of us, someone’s getting a little busted up,” said Ellie, casually patting the shotgun on her hip “I mean, I don’t mind getting a little bloody, but what about you, lass? Fancy a broken nose, or sprained wrist, or, perhaps, a trip to the incinerator?”

“Oh, I’d love to,” said the front desk lady “But I’ve got many customers to attend to.”

She proceeded to whip out a submachine gun from the topmost desk drawer.

“......” said May, the size of her pistol paling in comparison to the woman’s long gun.

“. . . nevermind,” said Ellie and the two would-be thieves exited the building in a very civil fashion, like they weren’t being threatened at all.

“What do we do now?” asked Ellie, curiouly lacking in her inate ability to plan.

“This whole idea seems doomed to me,” said May “How long will it be until your parents find out and file a complaint? Then, everything will be for naught. Doesn’t seem that vengeful at all.”

Ellie said nothing, frowning.

“Hey, I remember, ADA has a hacking module!” May improvised (adapted and overcame) “What if we hacked the terminal which handled all the transactions?”

“Huh,” the medic nodded “Sometimes, you do show glimmers of brilliance. Alas, if only such moments were the norm, not the exception.”

May ignored the comment about her great intelligence, focusing instead on getting back to the ship. Despite not packing crutches this time, Fallbrook was still difficult to navigate, due in no small part to the sudden abundance of sprats.

“Why are they all here?” May complained as she slipped on a space rodent “And what’s with that smell?!”

“The incinerator broke,” a man informed her as he passed by “It’s gonna be fixed in a few days, but don’t leave yet. It’s nothing bad.”

“I thought it smelled familiar,” Ellie shrugged.

May gagged.

As soon as the women got onto the ship, May began pestering her AI buddy.

“I can indeed use my hacking module to help you,” she agreed “If the terminal has external connections I can access.”

“It’s used to ferry money to Byzantium, it’s bound to have some,” said Ellie.

“I shall begin my search,” declared the robot “You may occupy yourselves however you wish.”

“Where are Parvati and Felix?” asked May, after her search on the ship came up fruitless.

“They just left,” said ADA.

May shrugged and went back to her drawing. Ellie stayed to chat. As a small barstool took shape within the virtual confines of her drawing pad, May was reminded of the nice bar on the street corner of her not-home, where Lucas’s mother worked. With that, May was reminded she hadn’t inhaled in quite a while. Dammit. Her fingers itched and her lips dried up. The mental image of an inhaler materialized before her eyes, blotting out the drawing of a barstool. She could almost - almost - taste the inhalant on her tongue.

That would not do. May shook her head and began shading the picture. A barstool was a pretty boring thing to draw, she realized. May decided to remedy that by adding blood and skulls to the piece of furniture. For some reason, the end table lookalike still didn’t seem very threatening. The seasoned artist took a moment to contemplate why.

As the sky was darkened, not by nightfall, but a storm, May gazed out of the window, chewing her lip. Parvati and Felix had not returned. The contours of Fallbrook’s buildings faded from view, obscured by the rain and dust in the wind.

“Nice weather for a walk,” Ellie commented, appearing suddenly behind her “I hope Felix and Parvati are enjoying their night on town.”

“Should I go find them?” May tapped her foot against the wall.

“Ha ha ha. Very funny,” she smirked “Might I remind you that the storms on Monarch are violent enough to tear roofs from buildings and fell trees? And that the locals consider this normal?”

“What if they didn’t get indoors before it hit?” the captain fretted “Where were they anyway and what were they doing? What if Felix or Parvati are injured or lost or-”

“It’s not like you can help them,” Ellie rolled her eyes “You’ll just end up as another poor unfortunate soul, trapped outside during a storm. Hell, maybe someone’ll get to be a big damn hero and save your sorry ass for the fifteenth time.”

“I . . .” May wanted to argue, to run out and find her friends at all cost, to make sure they were fine (what if they’re not? What if I can do something and don’t? What if-), to never betray them like she had been, but she understood “You have a point.”

“Finally, you heed reason,” Ellie sighed “Hopefully you won’t run out the moment I turn my back.”

It was just her fear of betrayal, of being the one holding the knife. She had always considered herself better than the humanity that had betrayed her, than the parents who had failed her, because she was no traitor. Everyone left her and destroyed her expectations, but she had never done so in return (no, I didn’t do anything to Betty! And she deserved it anyway!). May would have to commit a necessary betrayal. She hoped her friends would understand. Yes, they would. They didn’t have the strange issues she did.

Then again, there was nothing rational in how she felt - could it be the same with Felix and Parvati? May considered the absence of Nate and Ann betrayal - yet they had done nothing. Through no fault of their own, they broke the promise- no, expectation to always be there for May. She was doing the same. She’d have to apologize later. It was the least she could do.

“Captain, Ellie, I have managed to access the registry for Justin Case Insurance™. How shall I proceed?” ADA shattered the silence in her usual monotone.

“Can you reroute the isurance payments for Lionel Witherspoon and Theodora Fenhill to me?” the medic asked eagerly.

“I will see what I can do,” stated ADA and fell silent once more.

“Theodora was an empress of Byzantium,” May (miraculously) remembered something from history class “She ruled with her husband Justinian.”

“What Byzantium?” Ellie stared open-mouthed.

“The one back on Earth!” May threw up her hands in exasperation “Which existed a long time ago and was conquered by foreign invaders! What did you learn in school, dammit?!”

“That the company provides and that the founder of Scientism was married five times?” answered the denizen of Halcyon “The removal of drugs from your system really did you good.”

May scratched her chin. Where were the inhalants? Sold, of course. How much did they bring? Had their prices increased while May was in rehab? What about the regional price differences? Or the changes in flavor? Did the cost of inhalant jars rise exponentially? Oh, she could make a chart out of that!

“You seem very deep in thought,” remarked Ellie “Feeling nostalgic for the good old highs?”

“Nah, I’m thinking about making a graph of the price changes of inhalants,” said May.

“You should probably stop before you start ‘doing research’,” suggested the crewmember.

“Yeah,” she shrugged “Listen, you’ve been to Byzantium more than I have, is it true they’ve got tiny dog- canids there?”

“What, you didn’t notice any?” Ellie gawked “Teacup canids are all the rage in this part of Halcyon. And in all the other parts, but the workers are too poor to buy one.”

“So they can be domesticated,” May paused “What about sprats? If they’re anything like their namesake, then they can be kept in cages, petted and taught tricks.”

“Huh.” Ellie narrowed her eyes “I’ll see to acquiring one, then. Never hurts to find a diabolical minion.”

“Or an emergency ration,” agreed May.

“Or a mascot for our team of weirdos,” said Ellie “I wouldn’t be surprised if a serial is made of our lives someday. I mean, with the amount of weird shit we do, someone’s bound to notice the potential.”

“And every good team needs an annoying pet to steal stuff for them,” May caught on to the thought train “I hope we can train it to use a litter box.”

“That is my hope too,” said ADA “Crewmember Ellie, the payments have been successfully redirected. You should start seeing some extra change in your bank account starting from the 2nd of January.”

“Finally! My vengeance is complete!” Ellie smiled threateningly, baring her (curiously blunt) teeth “On a more serious note, I’m going to sleep. If you’ve injured something, tell me now.”

“I guess you aren’t a vampire then,” May instead stared inappropriately at the lower part of Ellie’s face.

“That’s what you think!” declared the not-mad doctor.

May, despite still itching (both figuratively and less so) for drugs, managed to get a good night’s sleep. Well, half a night’s sleep. She awoke from an extremely loud clang and highly unusual swearing. May grabbed her pistol and went to investigate.

She saw Felix and Parvati on the ship’s ramp, explaining to a guard that they hadn’t cheated at cards and stolen a cart, while the guard kept trying to detain them. May sighed. She knew she had to do something, but with her persuasiveness . . . Eventually, the resistance ceased and the two travelers were led away, right before the eyes of their sleep-deprived captain. Parvati even waved to her.

After getting a little more (read: five minutes) of sleep, May went to visit her wayward crew in the slammer.

“I didn’t cheat at cards!” exclaimed Felix “They were just jealous of my win streak!”

“And I didn’t steal any carts,” sighed Parvati “I sat nearby behind a table, when the storm started . . . and when it stopped, there was no cart.”

“When will you guys be getting out?” May whispered “I don’t have enough money to bribe the guards, sorry. I knew I should’ve come to get you when the storm began.”

“Don’t think you could’ve changed anything,” said the engineer “You ain’t particularly convincing.”

“Think we’ll have to sit by for a day or two,” Felix shrugged “Oh, Ellie’s gonna be livid.”

“Nah, I hid her coffee and she actually sleeps now,” May winked, then realized she was wearing a full-face helmet “I think.”

“There’s a guard coming this way,” whispered Parvati.

“Who the hell are you?” the guard gazed at May, stopping dead in his tracks.

“I’m looking for my hairpin,” said May like it was completely normal to hold a conversation, while hanging off the ceiling (in the jail) “I was thinking I saw one of them crooks take it, so I poked them a little, but nothing there.”

“Must be in their underwear then,” the man reached the only logical conclusion currently available “Shall I do a strip search?”

“No way! These two are so ugly!” exclaimed May and promptly fled the scene.

For some reason, she didn’t feel like visiting her buddies in prison again. She resolved to wait until they were released naturally.

And this once, her plan worked.


	46. Killer on the roof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very surprised I still have 11 subscribers to this story, even after its sharp decline in quality. I would really like to know what compelling qualities remain in this hopelessly derailed trainwreck, because I'm only writing it out of a sense of duty. The humor just isn't what it used to be and the angst was always meh. The biggest problem is in my mind the inconsistent characterization, because I've had so many versions of May (the first one was literally four personalities crammed into one body, lol that was a long time ago) that I seriously can't keep track of her, much less the other characters that are not mine.

Supposedly, the Groundbreaker was just as crime-riddled as Fallbrook. Well, May saw none of that even as she skipped down some random backstreet. No thieves tried to mug her, no gangsters tried to assert their dominance, no killers lurked in the shadows. There wasn’t even a single contraband merchant or drug dealer in sight. Not a single batch of inhalants! The captain, knowing her propensity for attracting danger, considered that extremely bizarre.

With nothing else to do, May decided to try climbing. She hooked one foot behind some hapless local’s drain pipe and hoisted herself up onto the uneven roof. Actually, that was no roof - but a ledge, connected to yet another house. The people ought to make those into balconies, though come to think of it, May hadn’t seen a single one in all her time in Halcyon. She birefly lamented the loss of such ingenious architectural elements, before realizing she was hanging five feet in the air by one arm. May quickly corrected her mistake and made it onto the higher ledges.

She jumped from one building to another, narrowly holding on thanks to some irregularities on the pre-printed domicicles. The 3D printer the locals used clearly wasn’t well-maintained. As she soon learned (through numerous critical hits to her head), the Groundbreaker’s homes didn’t have a real ceiling, instead growing into the ship’s upper shell. Fair enough for a space station. Of course, May hadn’t noticed that before bumping up against it.

She pressed onward, climbing across canopies and tiptoeing over ledges, before finding herself above the incinerator. Two thugs were dragging an extremely not-suspicious duffel bag, very long and shaped like a corpse. May paused, unseen above them.

“Think Fred’ll pay us well?” asked the first thug.

“He better,” growled the second “Or he can take a nice, long walk in some dark alley. Together with me, of course.”

May decided the time was right for her dramatic entry.

“Halt, foul evildoers!” she bellowed, regretting not acquiring a cape “Your spree of crime ends here!”

“What the fuck?!” said the taller thug.

“Another drunk reading comics?” guessed the second one.

“I give you a choice, killers,” May exclaimed dramatically, while drawing her pistol and creeping closer (yay, multitask!) “Face the guard . . . or face ME!”

“We’ve never even met before,” remarked one murderer and set the not-bodybag down “Who are you?”

“Where are you?” the second knew to ask the more relevant questions.

May decided to show herself. She leapt theatrically from the ledge, but, unfortunately, miscalculated the fall distance. The tryhard superhero slammed into the pavement and it would’ve been her end, if not for a certain power she could use at will. May got up and started shooting with wild abandon before her vision cleared. The thugs died as they had lived - illegally.

After spinning around a few times, May realized that what she had done was probably illegal and disappeared from the scene. She also realized that she could’ve easily dispatched the maniacs from above. Whoops.

The captain arrived back at her own ship just in time to wake Ellie.

“Where have you been?” the medic frowned.

“I couldn’t sleep so I decided to do parkour and kill some thugs,” May shrugged (I wasn’t looking for drugs or anything!).

“You do realize it’s not normal to be okay with wanton killing?” questioned Ellie.

“Even Parvati takes it pretty well,” said the captain.

“She thinks there’s nothing we can do to help them,” divulged the older woman “She sees it as a mercy. Do you?”

“Nah, I just don’t think much of it. Of violence and death and that stuff,” confessed May “Only when someone I like is in danger.”

“Good for you,” noted Ellie “Empathy only gets in the way.”

“Dunno about that, it would’ve really come in handy when I couldn’t even make a proper sentence,” spat the unfortunate reject “Oh, I’d have been so happy as a child. I’d be happier now too, if I could actually make nice and not annoy every other person the moment I walk into the room.”

“Trust me, the minds of other people are not something you would want to understand,” she joked.

“I guess you’re right,” said May and went for a nap.

-

“Welcome back, my fair client!” Martin seemed to perk up as soon as he noticed Felix “Here at Spacer’s Choice™, we take care of our fellow spacer!”

Felix could swear the man was smiling under his helmet, whether from genuine happiness to see his most frequent client again, or the amount of stuff obviously for sale.

“Let’s strike up a bargain, then,” he piled an assortment of scrap, baubles and armor onto the counter “What’ll you give me for these?”

“You’ve seen the best. Now buy the rest. Spacer’s Choice™,” he spouted a seemingly random corporate slogan “I do not have enought bits to pay for all of this. What the spacer does not have, the company™ provides.”

“Guess my raid went really well, then,” smiled Felix and removed some earrings from the pile “The new policy of “Loot everything that’s not nailed down” worked really well for us.”

“Thank you for choosing Spacer’s Choice™,” the vendor said as he began to make the transaction “It may not be the best choice™, but it is certainly the right choice™.”

“What about my change?” Felix raised an eyebrow.

“Denial is the best defense,” Martin spouted another catchphrase “I do not see any change. What I am giving you is not change. There is no change. Spacer’s Choice™ does not make mistakes.”

Felix pocketed the bits “I guess I should thank you for helping me out that time. And, um, apologize for running away. It was ungrateful of me.”

“Spacer’s Choice™ accepts your apology. Rejoice in knowing that the Architect™ is forgiving™ and repent for your mistakes™,” now he started quoting a religious text “Return to your place in the Great Plan™ and your fate™ shall go in the best possible course. Only specimens of the highest standard™ are permitted to associate with Spacer’s Choice™. For more information, purchase one of the Path of Inspiration™ booklets at the low price of 500 bits.”

“Last time, you didn’t give me this Scientism bullshit,” remarked Felix.

Martin paused. He turned his head downward, as if to look at his fingers. Then, he perked up again as another woman approached.

“Welcome, discerning spacer™!” he greeted her as she pushed Felix out of the way and showed her an assortment of guns(™) “The right choice™ for you. Spacer’s Choice™. Order™ yours today!”

Felix shrugged and left. The empty eyesockets of the moon helmet continued to stare after him.

-

“So, Lilya Hagen is continuing with the ‘alien conspiracy’ delusion,” said Ellie to the gathered crew “And she wants us to murder the sole survivor of Rizzo’s research project, Eva Chartrand.”

“Remind me, what was that about again?” asked Felix.

“The lab with the floating bodies, remember?” May nudged him.

“This woman has a house in Byzantium,” continued the medic “And I got the impression that Lilya will pay us very handsomely if we fulfill her mission quickly.”

“Sounds good,” said the captain “We moving out?”

“Playing ourselves to the fiddle of SubLight,” Felix frowned “Soon, we’ll be nothing more than glorified yes-men to the mafia.”

“Pessimism doesn’t suit you,” remarked Ellie.

“I dunno, she seems nice,” said Parvati “I’m sure we can end our contract whenever it gets too much.”

“I’m sure you can,” said ADA in an uncharacteristically sweet tone “I shall set course for Byzantium, then. Enjoy your day of being trapped on a tiny, malfunctioning spaceship, surrounded by the horrors of the void, where no one will hear you scream . . .”

“Do you need repairs?” asked Parvati.

“No, thank you. That was just sarcasm,” declined the living ship.

“Hey, have you ever thought about your original name, the Reliable?” the captain mused “Imagine if you weren’t renamed, we could call you the Old Reliable.”

“I am not a sidearm,” stated ADA “Neither am I a book.”

“Just thinking,” May shrugged.

Nothing weird happened on the trip, the only thing of note was that May learned some details of the mission. The pay was unusually large, nearly enough to cover several sessions of injections, and through that, keep May’s face normal for a year and half. The day would soon come when she wouldn’t be forced to wear a helmet all the time, when she could glance and even stare into a mirror. All hinged on her willingness to kill a researcher.

Judging by all the corpses, the Chartrand woman wasn’t a very moral scientist. Neither was she very successful. All in all, nothing better than a marauder or one of the thugs in a dark alley.

May could rest easy, even knowing that she was a killer for hire.


	47. Three intellectuals meet in a cellar . . .

“Did Lilya actually tell you where the mark lives?” May asked her vastly more knowledgeable subordinate.

Byzantium was sunny, as always, but now she knew what really was under the white paint and gleaming neon signs. May glimpsed a summer field, wet with blood and filled to the brim with corpses.

“As far as I know, in this star system,” deadpanned Ellie “I know who to ask, don’t worry. Assuming he hasn’t died yet . . .”

“I’ll follow your lead, then,” May shrugged.

“Did Parvati talk to you too?” Ellie asked after a short silence.

“Yeah,” said the captain “She felt it was immoral to kill this lady. Said she could be innocent.”  
‘  
“Innocent. Of course,” the medic snorted “The corpses in the jars are a good indication of that.”

“She asked that I would at least talk to the woman, get to know her side of the argument,” continued May.

“More like, hear her excuses and justifications, thereby ruining our chance of a stealthy attack,” Ellie rolled her eyes audibly.

“I’m not afraid of her,” declared the captain “If something goes wrong, I’ll improvise my way out.”

“See, this is why you have one less foot,” she noted.

“But I got in! It worked!” May defended herself against such baseless slander “It’s only when my junkie brain decided to jump down from the ceiling did things go wrong!”

“Good thing you’re not an addict, then,” said Ellie.

(good thing I’m not an addict anymore, right?)

(right?)

( . . . r i g h t ? )

(WAIT IS THAT MUH POWDER I SPY??!)

(ok nevermind)

She narrowly averted her gaze from what seemed to be a man carrying a few jars of inhalants. Well, okay, maybe more like two dozen. Still, she wasn’t going to suffer from the awful decisions of her youth now, especially not in front of Ellie. She had to move on.

Ellie’s friend turned out to be an exceptionally clean and well-groomed (even suspiciously so) old man. Naturally, for such a reputable individual, he turned the two adventurers in the direction of a gay bar in one of the districts the robots didn’t clean so fervently. Supposedly, he didn’t know where Ms. Chartrand lived, but he did know a place she frequented.

“I wonder if it’s also secretly a brothel,” said Ellie “Guess I’ll have to go undercover as a lesbian.”

“I would’ve never thought you’re straight,” May confessed.

“You would’ve also never thought to wait for me and Felix before taking an elevator to a literal slaughterhouse,” the spacer snorted “Of course you couldn’t have guessed that I’m very straight, even exceptionally so.”

The bar was very clean and sleek, full of well-dressed ladies of wealth and taste. Ellie and May stood out like homeless people on the streets of a rich metropolis (and technically they were, not exactly owning any property on land . . .).

“........” said May, because some woman in white actually considered it a good idea to wink at her “......”

There were so many people and they stared, like she was an exotic animal on a market, like she was a pack of butter on a supermarket shelf. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to come in with Ellie.

“I hear Eva Chartrand frequents this place,” Ellie told the barmaid (after ordering a whiskey, of course) “I have a delivery for her, could you tell me where she lives?”

“Quite nearby,” said the local and recited an address.

“You have no idea how much you helped me out,” said Ellie and began sipping her drink.

“Can we go now???” May tugged her friend on the sleeve.

“Jeez, you sound like a kid,” Ellie rolled her eyes “Can’t I enjoy a drink in peace? Wait outside, if you want to.”

May shook her head. She wouldn’t leave without her friend, especially if said friend insisted on getting drunk during an assassination. Nothing good could ever come from leaving a tipsy Ellie on her own.

May’s hopes for a quick escape were further dashed when Ellie ordered another bottle.

“Don’t drink so much!” the captain nagged “We have things to do!”

“Whatever it is,” she slurred “You can do is yourself.”

May opened her mouth to continue, but was pushed away by a fairly large lady in a business suit.

“New around here, are you?” the woman asked Ellie “I’m Anaya.”

“Ellie Fenhill,” she gave over a hand to be shaken “Huh. interesting necklace.”

May coughed insistently.

“One of my workers gave it to me for Christmas,” Anaya nodded “Touching, isn’t it?”

May reached out to poke her buddy, but collided with the server robot. The captain yelped and fled into the crowd. At least the people would be nice meat shields if the robot turned killer.

“Yeah, sure,” Ellie smiled “My captain gave me a bonesaw.”

“You’re a spacer?” she leaned closer “Do tell me more.”

And that’s how Ellie ended up “invited for dinner” by an upstanding socialite (oh, I know what that really entails). May left for her ship, feeling unforgivably dirty from all the stares.

“Good evening, captain,” said Parvati “Where’s Ellie?”

“She told me she was straight, went into a gay bar, got drunk and went for a sleepover with some businesswoman.” May relayed the events of the day.

“Good for her, I think,” Parvati blinked “Listen, I found this, um, quite good serial, and it’s airing today, so, what do you think?”

“I’m in,” the captain shrugged.

The next day, Ellie returned bright and early, a little too cheerful and with a slight limp.

“Just what exactly did you two do?” May gasped.

Ellie chortled with inappropriate glee, but gave nothing away.

“Can we go and kill people without interruption now?” complained May “Or will you have to demonstrate your newfound bisexuality again?”

“It’s nothing bad,” Ellie brushed her off “At least I didn’t kill anyone while flirting.”

May laughed nervously, rubbing at her shoulder.

The road to their target was short and paved. Wayward glances still hit the unsightly captain, dealing armor-piercing damage, as Nate would put it. He would’ve loved the place - sleek buildings and clean streets. No rats, no litter, no beggars. He always hated giving to the poor, he said they were all addicts and alcoholics. Once, May had agreed with him, but now, seeing how far she could’ve fallen, how her past could’ve still come back to haunt her, she felt strange thinking about him. If- when she’d wake Nate, she would talk to him and he’d be convinced. He would listen. He would understand. He would reconsider.

Chartrand manor was white and empty, like a hospital room. May poked around on a personal terminal and found a secret passage to the basement. The woman was serious about being a mad scientist, it seemed.

As May and Ellie took the elevator down, the captain felt like she’d been here before. But no - now she was together with a friend and there wasn’t a field of corpses awaiting her. Whatever was there, behind the descending elevator’s doors, was surely better.

The underground lab, not particularly secret, was tiny, filled with glass cylinders and jars. It’s what May would’ve called a homey science corner, the size of a pleasant bathroom. Anastasiya would’ve- would love to know what her broom closet could be turned into. The sole occupant of the cozy cellar shifted, putting down the vial she had been working on.

“Who are you?” Eva Chartrand asked, face obscured in her safety suit.

“We’ve been sent to kill you,” said May, unsure of how to react.

The scientist was like so many others May had interacted with, people she would never think of harming. Something in her chest clenched. She had seen this kind of suit worn by Anastasiya in a photo album.

“I expected as much,” sighed the chemist and signaled for an automechanical chilling in the corner to come closer “I told the company to clean up their tracks, to leave nothing to chance, and last I heard, Cascadia has become a marauder encampment.”

“Why did you kill all those people?” May composed herself “What did you gain?”

Ellie’s displeasure was almost tangible, especially with how close she stood and how her shotgun covered the edge of May’s vision.

“We were researching a solution to the food crisis that has already reached a point of no return,” she explained “I assume you haven’t heard of it, due to the extensive propaganda.”

“No, but I may have seen it,” May blinked, then clarified “Workers dying of malnutrition by the hundreds.”

“We’re on the same page, then,” Eva continued “Me and the others were searching for a way to make native flora edible for humans. The thought was to improve our genomes, augment them with material from the various alien creatures, in order to prevent starvation.”

“And yet you accomplished nothing except for killing a few dozen innocent people,” accused May “All for a goal that is impossible in the first place. Your plan was never going to work.”

“Who are you to tell me my science is wrong?” Eva stared icily “The only people I ‘killed’ were my fellow researchers, who volunteered to be augmented. I have done nothing wrong.”

“You’re an an idiot,” spat May “Your project was a waste of money and time. You should’ve sought an actual solution, not deluded yourselves in the snipe hunt for some miracle cure. Could saltuna be used for aquaponics, for example? Or how about terraforming the planets properly, to completion?”

“Says a random killer for hire,” snorted Chartrand “It’s easy for you to say this when you’re healthy and fed, when all you know of a food crisis are the deaths of a few hundred from malnutrition. What will you do when you see the true scope of the catastrophe, once you realize that humanity is headed for extinction in the Halcyon system? What lengths will you be willing to go to then, when morality will pale before all-consuming hunger? Will you come off your high horse then, I wonder?”

May saw all the evils of humanity in Eva’s face for a brief moment - Betty, Brian, HAM’s killers - before she stopped herself.

“I shall take my leave, then,” said May venomously and walked away from the mechanical gun turret.

“Captain-” Ellie began.

“Silence, you backstabbing mongrel!” May bellowed, voice starting to break “I’m not a child! I can decide for myself!”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” smirked Ellie “If you don’t want the money, then I certainly do.”

May stopped her, making time flow like a gelatinous mass. She wrestled the shotgun from Ellie’s hands and smacked her in the face with it. Then, she grabbed the medic by the overcoat and manhandled her into the elevator. May watched the scientist as the elevator door slid closed with agonizing slowness, making the lab smaller and smaller.

“What the fuck?!” Ellie stood up as May rubbed her head “I can’t believe how quickly you just scammed me!”

“I’m sorry for calling you a mongrel,” the captain looked down “But I should make rational decisions and this lady doesn’t deserve to die. She’s just a moron.”

“Well, gee, thanks for growing a morality compass out of the blue when we need the money,” Ellie spat “What are we going to tell Lilya?”

“I’ll talk to her,” decided May “She doesn’t even confiscate my weapons.”

“There go our funds,” Ellie rolled her eyes in exasperation “At this rate, we’ll be stuck in poverty like some beggars, thanks to our no-good captain.”

“You know what, Ellie,” May stood up straight “I get it. I’m stupid. I annoy you. But maybe you should think about your attitude too. I’m tired of you constantly snapping at me, Felix and Parvati. This needs to stop. You can always travel on another ship.”

“Pot calling the kettle,” said the woman, though with far less vitriol.

“Dunno if you’ve noticed or not, but I get along with them far better than you do,” May shrugged “I should probably be nicer to ADA, though.”

“Leave her be, she’s just salty Alex’s dead,” Ellie suggested “Since we’re in the neighborhood, will you be sneaking into the Ministry?”

“Sure thing,” said May.

“I’ll come,” decided the medic “I don’t trust you with stealth.”

“You don’t trust me with anything,” countered the captain.

“Fair enough.” she shrugged.

“I’ll go with Parvati,” she poked the elevator door as it opened.

“As a way of proving yourself to me? Or because she won’t disagree with your crazy improvisations?” Ellie laughed “Oh boy, this is the most awkward elevator conversation I’ve ever had.”

“Same here,” said May, walking into the light, away from the cramped cellar and annoying scientist.

The words of Eva Chartrand still lingered on the captain’s mind. If she learned something this dire in a cellar-turned-hobbyist’s-lab, what would she learn when breaking into Halcyon’s government secrets?

And a food crisis . . . curious.


	48. The Couple's Comeback

May journeyed across Byzantium, now in civilian clothes Parvati had managed to acquire (from where the captain wouldn’t ask). It drastically reduced the amount of people who stared at her, though the headscarf she insisted on wearing didn’t particularly help with blending in. The highest district where all the important offices were was heavily guarded (read: still more holes than a mesh strainer), so May and her friend took a detour into the sewers.

The sewers, which they had already traversed, were empty. May’s footfalls echoed in the empty hallways, dust and grime latching onto her clothes. She heard clanging and rattling in the distance - it must’ve been the pumps and machinery, but the hisses and groans of the pistons were like the breathing of a living being, like the movements of some titanic beast that inhabited the underground, waiting to strike out at unwary surface dwellers.

Something whizzed past May. She looked - and saw her father waiting for her. The robot aimed its lazers and there was nothing that could stop it, nothing that May could do.

She screamed, falling down like a ripe pear, shielding her face from the mechanical. If she couldn’t see it, it didn’t exist, it wasn’t there, it didn’t exist, it couldn’t be there-

A blast so bright May could see it through closed eyes illuminated the tunnel, sending shrapnel raining down everywhere. She felt something heavy and warm fall onto her, pinning her legs. A jolt of cold stabbed through her chest. She was already dead. She didn’t want to wait. She was already gone-

Parvati lifted the remains of the robot’s torso off May. The engineer brushed some soot off the captain’s clothes. May let her hands slide down her face and stared at the ceiling. Her heart beat so loud and heavy that it hurt, her breath caught in her throat.

“We’re real close,” Parvati knelt besides her “You ain’t hurt now, are you? Didn’t know those mechs could explode, sorry.”

“.....” May took a deep, gasping breath and shook her head.

It was fine. There weren’t any more robots. There weren’t any more. She was safe.

She was not safe. They were many. They were coming for her. They heard all. They sensed all. She was not safe.

May got up to her feet, as did Parvati a moment later. The mechanic straightened her friend’s helmet and May leaned towards her. Parvati’s jacket was nice and soft.

The empty darkness of the tunnel stared at the captain, strange clanging and rumbling coming from the blackness. Anything could be out there.

The wayward wanderers walked the narrow maintenance tunnels, Parvati in the lead this time, the captain behind her, pointing her pistol at every stain on the wall, every shape in the shadows. Anything could be out there. Any moment could be their last. Parvati was not safe with May. No one was ever safe with May.

The light greeted the adventurers with a brief respite from danger. The two women closed the tunnel entrance behind them and tried to act natural. Naturally, many soon took notice of a strange lady with slightly charred pants and a headscarf five years out of fashion. Parvati was less noticeable, though the lack of makeup still made her a target of judgmental stares.

The first stop was the Halcyon Holdings Building, where the high and mighty of the real gathered every year behind a roundtable to plot their evil plans. It had many floors, but May knew which one to visit, thanks to the Earth Minister.

“What is your business here?” said the front desk attendant.

“Um . . .” began Parvati.

“Is that a sprat back there?” May pointed.

“That’s illegal,” droned the man and went after the illusory animal.

May flashed the keycard and tiptoed inside. The office contained nothing of note, except for a terminal that couldn’t be dismantled and carried away. May poked around it, sending the message and getting a printed (invitation) keycard to the Ministry of Accurasy and Muzzle Velocity. Then she pressed the wrong button and was treated to a lengthy advertisement for human popsicles (and Chairman Rockwell’s double chin). So the food crisis was serious enough to be revealed to the public.

(the lottery-)

Parvati watched the video silently, eyes wide. Her breathing quickened.

“What happened to Edgewater won’t happen to the rest of Halcyon,” May put a hand on the engineer’s shoulder “We’ll stop that. Phineas is gonna revive the scientists and terraformers on the Hope. They’re smart, they’ll devise a plan in no time at all. They can use the terraforming machines left on Scylla and try to cultivate saltuna in tanks. Then all the waste the fish make can be used for fertilizer, to grow plants in the same water.”

“It’s just-” Parvati put a hand to her mouth “Other small towns and colonies must be suffering- hundreds of people could be dying as we speak!”

May imagined the room at the end of the new district. How many had been there? A dozen, perhaps. May imagined a sports stadium full of corpses, the tribunes seated with the dead. The players too, dead in the field, uniforms stained with blood and eyesockets crawling with flies.

“And the Board is cryofreezing people to save them,” Parvati continued “Should we really destroy their research? What if their is the only way?”

“Their solutions are stupid and inefficient,” May shook her head “Remember the lottery for Early Retirement? All that effort wasted on overseeing the lottery, transporting the people here, maintaining the sham district, disposing of corpses - human bodies are large, watery and smell bad! It would be so much more effective to simply cut off some corporate towns from supplies, or virus bomb them into oblivion, or sabotage their reactor which explodes or something.

Similarly, cryostasis is a very risky technology, which was poorly implemented in the colony ships, causing the people to be impossible to revive after 11 years for everyone except for Phineas. It’s not a solution to the food crisis, just a way to postpone it.”

Parvati breathed in deeply “We should go.”

The captain finally managed to turn off the computer and the adventurers left. However, the front desk guy was back on his post, working. May stared at him through the keyhole. She realized how absurd it was for a door operated by a keycard to even have a lock, but oh well. The Board wasn’t particularly well-known for its practicality. Or intelligence, for that matter.

“What do we do?” May whispered.

“Um, act like we belong?” offered the engineer.

“Be confident, then,” said the captain and clicked the door open with the card.

The receptionist stared at them indecipherably, but any questions he wanted to ask were seemingly put at ease by the swaggering strides of the captain and her aide.

May and Parvati high-fived in the elevator.

“Hey, do you think they might have cameras in the building?” asked Parvati.

“.....!” said May “....!!”

Everyone had seen her. Everyone knew who she was and what she was doing. They had seen her face from the headscarf flapping with movement. They had sent their robots and guards to kill her. They were already waiting when she came down.

No, it was fine. She had her pistol and the holographic shroud. She would be fine.

“We better get it over with quick,” said Parvati to herself.

The elevator doors opened and the world’s most uncomfortable ride ended. No army of hired thugs and automatons awaited ahead, which was a pretty clear indication of the incursion not being discovered, at least according to May.

The ladies proceeded into the Ministry of Artifacts and Magic, where they immediately spotted the entrance to the secret underground lab. The security here was like a mesh strainer with smaller holes, as evidenced by the fact that the guard wouldn’t let them in.

“A janitor, you say?” he looked inappropriately at May’s headscarf “Present your ID, please.”

“Lost it, sorry,” she pretended to rummage in her pockets.

“Come back when you have recovered your ID,” said the guard.

May sighed and removed herself from his line of sight. Parvati approached her, carrying someone’s old ID that the person had lost behind a decorative table some 100 years ago.

The guard, for some inconceivable reason, deemed it invalid. It was still valid enough to plug into the holographic shroud. May checked. The only problem was that the guard still wouldn’t let them in.

“We need a distraction,” whispered Parvati.

“Let’s see what the workers are doing,” agreed May.

The workers, as it turned out, were on lunch break. A man ran past her, headed for the toilets. His tray of food sat on the table, uneaten.

May, in her natural state, began to improvise. She took the tray and waited in the corner for the man to arrive. As soon as he neared his seat, May threw the tray at the people in the back. The gooey canteen sludge coated a poor unfortunate worker lady. She wiped it off her face and stared in horror at the documents she had been working on.

“What the fuck, Geoffrey?!” said the other woman behind that table.

“I-I didn’t do anything!” he said “My tray went missing!”

“You scum of the planet, I’ll teach you ruining the performance of others!” she bellowed, pointing to her coworker’s destroyed documents.

“It wasn’t me!” Geoffrey backed away.

The woman was quicker, deciding that the time for words was over. She punched Geoffrey in the face. Some of the other workers cheered her on. More yet shouted insults.

May backed away stealthily and winked to Parvati, who had been waiting downstairs. So much for subtlety.

The people on the ground floor noticed the disturbance, moving to break up the food-fight-turned-fistfight. The guard next to the door stayed stubbornly behind his post, but the noises got his attention and he glanced at the ceiling as if he could discern what was happening. The second of distraction was enough for May and Parvati to activate their disguises and waltz right past him. He didn’t suspect a thing.

“Your plans depend a lot on timing,” said Parvati in the supposed safety of the elevator.

“....” May put a finger to her lips (they hear everything. They know you’re here. They’re waiting-)

The lab was colored in green and blue hues, with plenty of dark corners and decidedly unsafe containers. Phineas wasn’t the only one guilty of skimping on safety regulations. There were also two paths on the floor - a red and blue one. Intuition told May that the blue one was safer.

The two walked past several cells containing marauders, some with drugs dripping into their system right as May watched. The people paced and whimpered, convulsed and screamed. The cells were soundproof. The captain remembered herself in the Groundbreaker’s medical bay - abandoned and left to rot. No, she would never end up like them.

The holoshroud, predictably, began failing. May and Parvati huddled in a dark corner for warmth for it to recharge.

“Present company credentials,” a floating drone approached.

May knew she had to reach for her pistol, but her hands froze up and began to shake. Maybe she was supposed to activate the disguise, or maybe she could make a run for it, or-

“How much is five divided by zero?” Parvati fired a question.

Amazingly enough, it worked.

“Error. Request invalid,” said the drone “Error. Does not compute.”

Parvati reactivated the shroud and dragged May from the corner.

“The design’s real shoddy,” she confided.

May nodded, feeling her intestines trying to crawl out through her mouth.

The room with the dimethyl sulfoxide was, predictably, the final chamber. Dozens were suspended in the tanks, each one with a name label. Parvati went to poke at the terminal, while May walked between the vats. The dead looked at her with half-open eyes, tubes coming out of them. But no, they still lived, like Nate, like Ann, like everyone else on the ship of ghosts. She stopped before the tank labeled 63. Something in the man floating inside seemed familiar. He wore the same cryosuit she had awoken in, the tubes attached to the base of the jar. She read the inscription - Andre Riviera. Suddenly it struck her.

The man who stared back at her from cyogenic preservant was the guard whose armor she had stolen at Roseway. His boyfriend was there too - Hakim Abbas, said his sticker.

She had brought them here. She had been the final nail in the coffin to send them there. She looked to the stickers for dates - they had arrived exactly a week after her visit. She had made them dissident.

“Captain,” Parvati called her over.

May walked closer, legs made of styrofoam.

“If we take all of the chemical . . . all those people will die,” she said “There’s no way to safely revive them.”

May looked at the tanks.

Andre Riviera stared back.

His eyes were hazel.


	49. The Damned Freak

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” whispered May.

“Let me see . . .” Parvati prodded the terminal (is there a big red button? Can you press it?) “We could take 23% and the people will live.”

“So little?” the captain glanced at the jar which was supposed to be filled by the dimethyl sulfoxide - utterly tiny.

“I-I think not,” the engineer stepped away.

May strode to the computer, examining its logs and data. The subjects had been frozen for too long. Without an appropriate amount of chemical they would suffocate, unable to breathe normal air.

It would’ve been so much better if there was no choice. If May was simply sacrificing thirty lives to save three hundred thousand. But she could save them too. She could come steal the rest of the batch later. It wasn’t like everyone on the Hope could even be revived, surely some pods had gone offline years ago-

“Captain, I could set up a distraction,” offered Parvati “Release the poor victims in the cells.”

-surely she could manage to sneak in again, even with the heavier security-

“Go ahead,” said May, staring at the damning percentage.

-she had her shroud and she would have the wits of Earth’s brightest to help her-

“Think quickly,” said Parvati and left.

May blinked and realized that she had been abandoned again. Abandoned to make the difficult moral choices, while Parvati just helped along and didn’t actually decide anything. Abandoned so that the traitorous wench could hightail out of there while May-

No, she couldn’t think that way. She had to focus. Would she take all the chemical or only a minuscule amount. Even if she took everything, it could still be too little. Would she ever see Nate and Ann then? They were scientists of little importance. Not terraformers, not farmers. She was the only one who cared for them, who knew them at all. Their lives only mattered to her, while being insignificant specks in the grand scheme of things.

May put a hand to her neck. If she thought enough, she could still feel the bruises, still remember how her chest failed to rise, how she had watched the world blur and distort, while laying helplessly on her back. She felt the lump in her throat, stopping the flow of air, slowly making her stop struggling and fall into the abyss of eternal nothingness that was death.

To those people, she would be like Betty. They would see her before them, trapped and helpless, suffocating in their prisons. And there would be nothing and no one to save them.

It had to be worth it. Nathanael and Anastasiya awaited.

A siren blared in the hallway. Parvati’s plan had worked

It better be worth it. All the people of the Hope would know what she sacrificed to bring them back.

May pressed the button.

Her face reflected on the monitor.

For a moment, it looked like Betty’s.

The jar filled up. Air entered the vats. May took it and stuffed it inside her backpack. It fit neatly. She heard tapping behind her.

She was not disguised. She heard footsteps nearby, panicked yells and the discharge of gunfire.

Behind her, she heard faint tapping.

May didn’t want to turn.

The gunfire sounded closer.

Pulling the scarf higher over her eyes, May peered at the doorway.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a woman stir in her tube.

The lady slammed her fist against the glass. The vat was not soundproof.

May looked at the dissident. Whatever crimes she had done couldn’t possibly warrant this, could they? Could they? Perhaps-

Andre Riviera looked at her. He was slumped against the surface of his tube, gasping, holding his neck.

Hakim Abbas looked at her. He had his arms against the glass, pleading to be let out, to be set free.

Subject 65 looked at her. The woman hit the walls furiously, even as the last of her strength left her and she crumpled onto the bottom of the jar like a discarded blanket.

Subject 71 looked at her. So did subject 59 and subject 32 and subject 66 and subject 45 and subject 47 and subject 55 and subject 12 and subject-

Oh. That was Parvati. She was alive. She was fine. The engineer glanced briefly at the people who were now too weak to struggle and laid still and silent in anticipation of their deaths, and hauled May away by the shoulder. The holographic shroud clicked and the disguise field activated.

Parvati grabbed a wheeled table loaded with jugs and rolled it in front of her. May followed behind. The rucksack like it was full of granite, pressing into her spine.

The two totally-not-infiltrators-yes-really-we’re-just-janitors moved across the lab with purpose that the actual scientists and guards lacked. An inmate on the run blocked their path, but Parvati slammed her cart into him and knocked him down. The cart rolled away, somehow not doing major property damage in the hopelessly crowded lab.

“Attention! A security breech of project Alpha has been detected!” a voice boomed from the speakers. May’s hands shot up to her ears.

Parvati hastened her steps, the captain following behind, every step finding something to stumble upon with supernatural precision.

“Remain at your posts,” the system continued “Have your badges at the ready. Commencing lockdown in 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . .”

The elevator was within view.

May slowed time. She grabbed Parvati and dragged her inside. The captain shoved the button with all her might. The elevator began to slowly close, every movement taking an eternity (not the lockdown not the lockdown please please I gotta be fast enough I gotta be I can’t be trapped I’m not trapped Betty isn’t in here with me).

The doors slit shut and the elevator rocketed into action.

May breathed in. Her head felt like a helium balloon, mind ready to detach and float off into the void. Her feet seemed to be standing on cheap plastic boxes, in danger of overturning at any moment and sending her crashing down into the abyss.

Subject 65 looked at her-

“Act normal,” Parvati whispered “We’re almost out.”

The elevator opened and before anyone on the upper floor could react, May and Parvati walked out with utmost confidence.

“Present ID please-” a guard moved to intercept them.

“Our missive will not be delayed!” May declared melodramatically.

The guard paused in thought.

May and Parvati walked out of the front door.

Immediately, they were given a free shower.

“Where did this come from?!” complained May.

“We don’t even have an umbrella!” exclaimed Parvati, earning her several confused stares from the rich folk unable to comprehend the notion.

The two not-trespassers-just-normal-workers (move along, nothing to see here) proceeded towards the sewers (er, maintenance tunnels) (does it make a difference, though?) in an orderly fashion and entered the door meant for mechanicals, all very unsupiciously.

“....robots too,” May realized “....robots too! They’re everywhere.”

“Good thing you brought a bodyguard, then,” said Parvati and adjusted the captain’s hood “No one can see your face. They’ll never know what hit ‘em.”

“You’s right,” agreed the robotophobe “Lead way.”

She walked a few paces behind her friend, open to a stab in the back. Anyone could shoot her. Anyone could be watching.

A mechanical’s visual sensors blinked in the darkness, like Betty’s leering eyes. Parvati grabbed her flamer (how did no one notice it while we were “undercover”?) and set the robot on fire. It burned like a candle, like a tribute to the souls lost this day. Souls lost because May was a moron and felt the need to hurry . . .

She could’ve come back another day. Could she have? That wasn’t important anymore.

The burning robot illuminated the way as the somehow-still-alive adventurers climbed out of the not-sewers. Maybe if the elites of Byzantium didn’t want their things being stolen, they could’ve made the underground tunnels (why do they even exist, if they aren’t sewers?) less obvious. And less ominous, while May was at it. Someone had clearly saved money on the lighting.

When they exited from the other end, it was still raining. The people regarded the two soaked not-dissidents with apt suspicion. The locals were more perceptive than May had expected. The spacers hurried to the starport, trying to seem like they hadn’t done anything wrong and were just anxious to get out of the rain.

The Unreliable was within walking distance. May dared to slow down. At any moment, the Board could impound all vessels in the harbor and search every single one. The question was only whether they would dare to show weakness and expose the gravity of the situation more than they already had.

Parvati and May climbed aboard without incident.

“ADA, set course for Phineas’s lab,” the captain wheezed.

ADA said nothing as the ship rumbled and took off. Perhaps she could guess the graveness of the situation.

“You’ll have to throw the clothes into the trash compactor once we’re in orbit,” said Ellie, appearing out of thin air “If they’re ever seen in your vicinity again, you’re dead.”

“What’s the compactor actually do?” May asked “Is it like an incinerator?”

“That would cost too much to implement,” Ellie shook her head “All officially sanctioned ship models have trash chutes that simply empty into space.”

“Wouldn’t that, like, clutter space and pose a danger to vessels?” asked Parvati.

“Only in orbit,” answered May “Space is huge. What you threw out of the airlock will likely never meet anything else aver again, but stuff that’s around a planet can gather and damage ships.”

“Wait, space debris can damage ships?” Ellie raised an eyebrow “How is that even possible?”

May sighed. Everyone in Halcyon was a moron.

Andre Riviera stared at her from within his tank.

“Why did you let me die?” he asked “Why did you kill us all?”

May found she could neither look away nor answer.


	50. False Reassurance

“Still don’t feel like it was right to do that,” Parvati sat curled up, head on knees “Was my calculation correct? Was it really the only option?”

“It was,” May lied, patting Parvati on her shoulder “You can rest easy, knowing that I took the time to check everything. Also, if the Board captures you someday, you can tell them you just followed orders and that I threatened to destroy your town with a giant death lazer or something.”

“I can see you with a lazer, cackling,” she perked up slightly “You’d be the kind o’ villain who’d build a starship with a huge cannon that shoots . . . something cool and everyone would make comments about your height. Even though you’d build the cannon to shake towns down for their stuff. And hunt down the pesky heroes.”

“Uh-huh,” the woman ingored the comment about her height and continued playing the part of ‘responsible captain’ “Anything else on your mind?”

“Think we should make a statue or something to the . . . to those people?” the engineer’s smile faded yet again.

“Maybe not a statue, that feels pretentious,” May pretended to agree “A memorial for certain, though. Some kind of wall painted with graffiti? A stair step on some important stairs? Or an-”

“Wait, I like the stairs idea,” Parvati cut her off “Like, picture a metal stairway leading nowhere. Symbolic of the lost lives. I could make something like that, with one step for each person.”

“You’re thinking like a real artist,” May praised her technical subordinate, not deigning to mention that the captain considered it a little unsettling to talk about dead people and sculptures in the same conversation. Oh well, everyone dealt with it a bit differently.

“Thanks,” she brushed a loose strand of hair from her face “When I went to free the captives, I couldn’t stop thinking about the others in the tanks. Nobody deserved to be there.”

“We did them a service, then,” May pretended to conclude “Set them free. There was nothing else we could’ve done for them. It’s the Board and their stupid plot that should be blamed for their deaths, not me and especially not you.”

“It’s so unfair that their hands are all clean, but we were used as instruments to do the evil things,” she sighed “I bet they can make us seem like the bad guys, like it’s our fault those people are dead. It’s not, right?”

“Of course not,” May reassured her friend, losing count of how many times that question had been repeated “If we’re lucky, they’ll never know who we are.”

“They will,” Parvati saw through the false assurance “We gotta be prepared. Spend more time repairin’ our weapons and armor, try not to draw attention, that stuff.”

“It’ll be difficult not to draw attention to us, what with there being a dedicated news column for my misadventures,” May snorted, then realized how dire that sounded “I mean, surely that would lead to us being underestimated. And besides, they never saw it was me. I had a scarf! And it’s not like you’re being tracked. You look very average and unremarkable too, gonna be hard to track.”

“Can only hope so,” Parvati nodded.

“Attention, crew,” ADA interrupted the intimate (not like that!) moment “Please remain seated while I attempt to navigate this space station’s landing bay. There may be minor turbulence while I figure it out.”

“It went so well the first time,” May sighed “Would you like to meet Phineas?”

“Not really,” she shook her head “Seems intimidating. Maybe some other time, whe the situation’s calmed down.”

“Fine, then,” the young woman shrugged, then tried to stand up. She was tossed across the room in a particularly inconvenient bout of turbulence.

“Who did I order to stay put?” ADA chided her reckless captain “I hope you haven’t broken anything essential. Even in this day and age, functional limbs are hard to replace.”

“-been through worse-” May mumbled unintelligibly “-that bad.”

“With that attitude, you may well find yourself having to test the cybernetics manufactured by Spacer’s Choice,” the robot continued.

“They’re making what now?!” she gasped in abject terror “And selling it?”

“Or at least trying to,” confirmed the AI “Oh, look, the docking bay turned out to be navigable, after all.”

“I better go,” said May and went to grab the vial of chemical.

The turbulence . . . what if it had broken? What if there was nothing for her to find, nothing to show for her efforts, nothing to justify the dead? Andre Riviera stared, his haggard face reflected in every wall, every floor tile, every kitchen counter-

May retrieved the container of dimethyl sulfoxide from its ‘secure’ hiding place. Not a single crack ran across the jar. The captain let out a slow breath. There was no need to think about that-

Thirty people. That was like an entire classroom. Sure, people were (are) scum, but a classfull of bodies?

The very secret lab floating right above Byzantium didn’t seem different at all.

“Come in, captain!” Phineas welcomed her through the loudspeakers “You should’ve called. Wouldn’t want my only associate getting a concussion from any loose equipment.”

“To your credit, the Board isn’t much better acquainted with safe work environments,” May narrowly sidestepped a wrench laying right in her path “Also, their terminals are super hackable! I just poke it with a bypass shunt, or two, if all else fails, and their secrets are all mine.”

“They think boarding up windows is an adequate security measure,” he agreed “I trust you’ve managed to outwit the pigs? Oh, pardon me. That would imply they have wits.”

“Which is clearly not the case.” May continued the thought.

She arrived in the familiar room where Phineas kept all of his pigs. The animals immediately charged her, to the great amusement of their master. This time, however, May was prepared. She only stumbled slightly under the sustained assault.

“You should install gun turrets if you want protection,” grumbled the captain “Your pets must eat a lot.”

“They control the sprat infestation,” Phineas grinned behind the glass “Using machine guns to kill pests would be a bit overkill, no?”

“I once saw a sprat with a nose piercing. That thing I would nuke from orbit,” May disagreed.

“Nothing of the like has graced my sight yet,” he shook his head “I trust you’ve remembered to bring the dimethyl sulfoxide?”

May fished the vial out of her bag. It fit neatly into her palm. To think that this much kept a classfull of people alive . . .

“Put it on the table, right over there,” Phineas instructed “I’ll pick it up later.”

He wore the jacket May had gifted him. Already, it sported a purplish stain on one sleeve.

May carefully positioned it as far from the edge as humanly possible. The pigs followed her, insitent on screwing everything over. One pushed its snout into her boot, but, finding nothing of note, grunted unhappily and left her alone. After ensuring that the table was firmly rooted to the floor, May went back to Phineas. The pigs grew bored of her presence and scattered to do their own things.

(now that he has what he needs, he can betray you. He can dispose of you. Your part is done)

“Quite a feat, no?” the scientist smiled “Chenda Keo, lab assistant, stealing from right under the noses of the Board.”

“That’s not my name!” the captain exclaimed.

To think that all this time, he had never once referred to her by name. To think that she hadn’t thought of properly introducing herself sooner!

(oh, what a moron you are, replacement captain)

(blindly trusting a space terrorist)

(killing for a greater cause fed to you by one delusional man-)

Phineas blinked for a moment, then composed himself “So you have adopted a catchy moniker and gone out fighting crime, as per my suggestion? I should apologize for giving away your secret identity. What is your name now, then?”

“I’ve always been May,” she crossed her arms “Since I’ve been called a name. Should’ve told you, I suppose.”

“Nothing I can’t deal with,” he assured her, writing it down at the same time “Although my memory might have trouble.”

“What’s next?” she asked.

“Do you think the Board might’ve caught a whiff of you?” Phineas asked back “Don’t get me wrong, I have absolute faith in your abilities as an infiltrator, but if there’s even the slightest possibility of the swine sniffing you out, we can’t proceed.”

“Now that you mention it, I might’ve smelled a little too strongly of oil and soot,” she chuckled “A robot exploded on me. Somehow.”

“For some reason, I don’t think byzantines maintain their robots very diligently,” he shot a look towards the table “It seems the Minister didn’t have anything to compensate for, because the dimethyl sulfoxide cache is disappointingly small.”

So it was not enough. There should’ve been more vats, more people to kill. For what? The slim chance that Nate and Ann were still alive and that she could live happily with them after what had happened? After what she had done?

“I’ll have to plan accordingly, I suppose. Unfortunately, alternate means of acquiring it are rare and I will not-”

The glass separating master from experiment was greenish-blue. Like the glass of a lab vat.

Andre Riviera stood behind Phineas, the shadow of two murderers-

“I killed thirty people for you!” May lunged at her employer, aiming her fist right for his smiling face “Isn’t it enough?!”

Phineas recoiled as May’s fingers struck glass with a resounding rattle. Her fist skidded to a halt and a sharp pain shot through her finger joints. She gripped her bruised knuckle close to her chest, staring at the far wall.

“There goes your finger,” said Phineas, no longer smiling.

“Got more,” May spat.

“With that attitude, they won’t last you long,” he shook his head, still frowning in shock.

Phineas adjusted his collar, lips pursed together. May shook her hand, partly to reduce the pain, partly to give herself some sense of comfort.

“You can tell me what you saw, if you’d like,” he continued, far quieter now “And please take a seat. There’s one in the far corner.” he gestured to a folding chair standing over some wires.

May sat down onto the floor. Phineas wore Spacer’s Choice sneakers. Compared to them, her own traveling boots seemed clean.

“I should’ve expected this,” he walked a few paces back and sat onto a bench “Forgive me for assuming you would be so willing to kill. I had thought my holographic shroud would be enough to get you through without bloodshed, but I miscalculated.”

“It works fine,” May sighed “I were disguised. Not one broke it.”

“Go on,” Phineas encouraged.

“There was subjects in jars,” she felt her throat close up at the mere mention of such events “Inside cryosleep. Killed everyone.”

Thankfully, the scientist didn’t seem partial to staring. But he was still there and so were his cystipigs. And so were the ghosts and the shadows and Betty-

“If you would like, you can come back another day,” he offered.

Ah yes. An excellent opportunity to get rid of May brought on by her own issues. Yet another way for the contrivances of her past to destroy her present.

“I won’t go,” she stood up to her unimpressive height “Can’t get rid of me so easily. It’s all for your own plots, ain’t it? For your own plots. Now that I’ve done what is needed . . . done what is needed . . .”

“Nothing like that,” Phineas assured her “I meant it when I said you’d become my assistant. Even with Bubbles, Blossom and Buttercup, it sometimes gets lonely.”

“.....” said May.

“What you did wasn’t right, but it was what had to be done. I know how you feel.” he looked for a moment as if he was carefully considering his words “I employed Captain Hawthorne and now he’s dead. There have been others who I have sent on suicide missions, or innocents whose deaths I was responsible for. 

I regret many things, but fighting against the Board is not one of them. Always remember that it’s their tyrannical ways which force your hand. As long as you strike a balance between what is right and what must be done, you will be better than them.”

He brushed some hair out of his face and tried a reassuring smile “I know it’s not much, but that’s all I can say. In this day and age, no one is truly innocent. Except for my darlings. They can do no wrong.”

As if to demonstrate, Bubbles came and knocked May over.

“I can see that myself,” May took a deep breath before continuing “See, there was a test subject there I recognized.”

Phineas nodded, either in sympathy or pity.

“It was a guard, who, uh, whose armor I stole once for disguise purposes,” she felt cold “He and his boyfriend were taken to the lab.”

“Well-” he began.

“Not the worst part,” May stopped him “I pose as guard to-to steal drawing pad. Thought they cost too much. Thought nothing bad would come of that. I am a terrible person.”

“And yet it was the company that decided the punishment for shirking duty was death and torture,” Phineas said carefully “The guards were the ones who chose to engage in risky activity. The fault is not entirely yours.”

“I am a terrible person,” May repeated. Bubbles poked her in the foot with her snout. May petted her and the animal oinked happily. Cystypigs were like dogs.

“Yes, you have done wrong,” Phineas sighed, growing weary of her personal problems “I hope you learn from the experience. As they say, ‘it’s hard to tell how hot the plasma cutter is without getting burned’. Nevermind, that was out of context.”

“I will still become your assistant?” May tilted her head.

“Of course,” his smile returned “I’ll teach you everything I know. Now, I think you should take a few days to cool down and reflect. Perhaps you will be forced to commit similarly unsavory acts in the future. I will contact you when I deem it safe to continue with the plan. Let the corporate swine wallow in the mud for a while. Let them calm down. Then we’ll strike.”

“And they’ll never see it coming,” May chortled with inappropriate joy “Bye, Phineas! Remember to clean your lab every once in a while!”

“I will most certainly forget that last part,” he chuckled “Farewell, assistant.”

May returned to her ship, with a spring in her step, but still wary of the tripping hazards lurking in the shadows.

“I will be better,” she told herself “Now that I know how selfish and entitled I really am.”

Hakim Abbas looked back at her from the ship’s ramp.

“What does it matter when I’m dead?” he whispered.

May said nothing.


	51. Kuutõbine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuutõbine  
Ta pole enam see  
Keda tuntsime.  
Hoidke eemale  
\- Kuutõbine, Terminaator  
[translation]  
Lunatic  
He's not the same anymore  
Who we knew  
Keep away

May laid on her bed. It felt so vast and empty nowadays. The world outside was dark, but she didn’t care either way. She had to do something to absolve her crimes - do what? It was too late for all the dead people. May wanted to curl into a ball and sob until the universe took pity upon her and absolved her of her crimes. May wanted to scream until time distorted to accommodate her wishes. But that would never work.

She clutched her drawing pad to her chest. So much death for what- for this little tablet? For the incomplete picture of her family she’d drawn? It wasn’t hers to have. She stared at the faces she once remembered, but couldn’t even outline. Nathanael and Anastasiya seemed so fake in their depictions, so false and utterly wrong.

May flipped through the art she had saved. All the things she had drawn in blood - and nothing worthwhile. She deleted it all. Erased the pictures from history, like she had been erased. Like she had erased all those people (were the marauders really deserving, or--).

She looked at the time - seven in the morning. Like getting up for college. May had stopped keeping track of the clock a long time ago. Even the dates barely mattered anymore.

The captain stood up and stumbled towards the door, drawing pad still poking her in the ribs like the accusing fingers of a dead man. The crew had gathered in the kitchen, all except for Parvati.

“Lilya Hagen is dying to know what happened between us and Chartrand,” Ellie remarked, sipping water. Not coffee. Not anymore.

“Then I’ll have the pleasure of telling her,” May put her drawing pad on the table “Felix, you won’t mind selling some stuff? Take this with you.”

“Uh, sure,” he eyed the pad warily.

“It’s perfectly serviceable,” Ellie glanced down “What happened to your passion?”

“It was wrong to steal it,” the captain tapped her foot on the ground.

“Oh, right,” the medic snorted “Your moral compass. Like it matters now how you got it six months before.”

“None of your business what she chooses to do with her stuff,” Felix defended his captain.

“I’ve realized how wrong and selfish stealing really is,” she tapped her foot more insitently “Because I realized the consequences for me might not happen, but for other people . . .”

She stopped herself before she could get emotional.

“Enjoy your sense of moral superiority,” Ellie shrugged “I can only hope it improves your sanity.”

“I wouldn’t be so optimistic,” May shook her head.

“A fair assessment,” she said and went to wash her coffee cup.

“Wait, captain, I don’t get it,” Felix held up a hand “Are you crazy?”

“Kinda,” said May “Don’t talk like that, it’s rude.”

“How do I question your sanity politely, then?” he wondered, blissful in his innocence.

“That, uh, isn’t polite at all,” May explained “People get so offended when you talk about mental health. I mean, I hardly care, but don’t try that with others.”

“Alright then,” he stood and took the pad with him “Off do do your errands, boss!” He saluted.

May laughed. Then she remembered her plan for the day and stopped abruptly.

Lilya Hagen was less than pleased with the continued survival of Eva Chartrand. She decreed May to be a saboteur sent by the alien overlords and promised retribution.

“Make no mistake,” Lilya tried to hard to be menacing “One day, I will end this conspiracy. One day, I will become the savior of humanity.”

May tried her best not to burst into undignified giggles.

“Leave my presence,” she commanded like a true villain “Enjoy the time you have, traitor.”

“Farewell, my lady,” May waved and backpedaled into the elevator “I hope we never meet again.”

And so, Lilya made the first mistake of any evil overlord aspiring to be taken seriously: let her enemy escape.

May, emerging from the Legitimate Salvagers’ Social Club, finally let loose her inappropriate happiness.

She laughed all the way to the public restrooms, at which point her gleeful joy was replaced with abject horror at the state of public safety in Halcyon. No way was THAT toilet safe to use.

-

Felix strutted with utmost confidence over the metal walkways, so unlike the dirt and asphalt on planets. No pebbles dislodged as he walked, no sun or moon or planet hung in the sky. It was so different from every other place he had visited and yet so much like home. Terra 2 and Monarch were just too vast and empty for his liking.

Come to think of it, that made him a real spacer. He had been born on a space station and he had been raised within just a thin film of recycled atmosphere, had spent his youth inside a field of artificial gravity. Felix did have some heritage to be proud of, after all. Sure, he didn’t much like returning to the Groundbreaker and seeing all the remnants of a worse life, but it was pretty cool that he and everyone raised there were spacers. He had heard somewhere that spacers were the next step in the evolution of humanity to be an interstellar species, which sounded badass. Like they were all mutants with latent superpowers just waiting to develop.

The ground level was mostly empty, a scant few people flittering between the shops. Felix beelined for the most familiar of those. Martin Callahan stood behind his stall perfectly straight, the eyeholes of his helmet staring at nothing. He didn’t even turn his head as Felix approached.

“Thank you for making the informed choice™!” he said cheerily, like a mechanical dressed up as a company mascot “Deposit items for sale™ onto the counter™.”

“What’ll you give me for these?” Felix pushed the assorted loot onto the not-granite.

“Fifty-seven bit™s,” Martin scanned the objects with robotic precision “Sixty-two bit™s. Fourteen bit™s.”

He arrived at the last item, a dataslate with pretty pictures of mantisaurs “Error™. Item™ invalid. Foreign language™s aren’t allowed in Halcyon™. One colony, one language™.”

“Really?” Felix took back the slate “What a lame rule.”

“Lame™ is an unsuitable adjective™ to describe official™ language policies™,” Martin disagreed in a happy tone of voice “Suggested alternatives are: marvelous™, utilitarian™, thoughtful™, clever™. Every responsible spacer™ forgoes the use of foreign language™s. There is nothing more shameful than the use of unsanctioned word™s.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Felix sighed “You buying the other stuff?”

“There is nothing more shameful than the use of unsanctioned word™s,” Martin repeated to himself, exchanging money for the junk Felix brought.

“Oh, I dunno, it’d be cool to have like a secret code that nobody else could read,” the real spacer shrugged “Just a thought.”

“Honesty™ is mandated in all dealings™ with customer™s,” Martin continued spewing his rhetoric “Spacer’s Choice™ - not the best™ choice, but the honest™ choice.”

“Uh huh,” Felix smirked “What about that time you, eh, invited me over, Martin? Was that really honest?”

He paused, processing the words. “I am not Martin. I am MoonMan™. Please free the counter for the next customer™.”

Felix shrugged and removed himself from the shop. He supposed that Martin would hate being reminded of his failings as a corporate slave. It was probably rude to remind him. Still, Felix couldn’t shake the feeling that from a rather altruistic - if very brainwashed - man, Martin had quickly spiraled down into little more than a mascot, just with less gears and more flesh.

Oh well. No point in dwelling on that. Felix felt up the bits in his pocket and decided he could buy himself something for his efforts. Surely the captain wouldn’t mind? Ellie would get pissy either way.  
Felix entered the bar with the subtlety of a drug-addled raptidon and bought the strongest vodka for sale. As a youth he could only dream of ever tasting the Spectrum. Being a spacer opened so many exciting opportunities.

The more Felix drank, the prettier all the women around him became. Even the serving girl, who was in truth about forty and with the personality of sandpaper. Though she continued glare at him, a loathsome rungleech in her “fine establishment”, he didn’t care at all. In fact, she had quite nice hair, now that he looked harder. Still, he wasn’t drunk enough for her to become his type.

Felix approached a lady his age and winked. She winked back.

“Is it just me, or are you the sun?” he mustered the best pick-up line he could slur out “Cos I could orbit around you day and night~”

“Too bad that you aren’t my lucky star,” she declined, previous interest evaporating as rapidly as ice cream left on a radiator “Better try again in another galaxy.”

Felix frowned and staggered over to another woman. She proved very receptive and even invited him over to her bedroll.

“I’m sure that such a fetching young lad will be most interesting to get to know,” smirked Agnes.

“The dress is nice, but you’d look better without it,” Felix flirted back.

As soon as they arrived, Agnes threw him down onto her bed. However, instead of taking off her clothes, she took out a gun.

“What?” said Felix.

“Did you really think I would want you, filthy manchild?” she continued smirking “Now give me all your money or I’ll shave you with my rifle.”

“What?” Felix continued, not drunk enough to agree, but too drunk to disagree.

Agnes grew impatient and grabbed Felix’s bag. He kicked her in the chest. The wannabe robber growled and drew her pistol. However, before she was able to act on her evil impulses, a hero with a crowbar struck her down.

“Long time no see,” said Freeda Gordon, looking down at the damsel in distress.

“Hey, I just scored . . .” Felix whined “Ain’t a place for three.”

“Seems like you need to take a nap,” she frowned.

“No way,” Felix picked himself up “I’m fine.”

As if to demonstrate, he vomited right onto Agnes’s unconscious body.

Freeda sighed and dragged him away, along with his bag.

“Where’ve you been?” she questioned rhetorically (as he was quite drunk).

“Spacing with me crew,” Felix slurred “Gettin’ rich now.”

“So you’ve found some pirates to take you in?” she continued the conversation with great reluctance.

“Nah, captain’s fightin’ the good fight,” he began drooling onto her shoulder “Got this ship, the Unreliable, which flies like crazy. Should get it painted, though. Blue’s a boring color.”

“They remember to feed and pay you, yes?” Freeda wondered “Can they even cook?”

“Don’ get paid,” Felix felt his eyelids droop “Too poor for that. Food’s nice, but getting costy.”

“Costly,” she corrected. Freeda said something else, but Felix could hardly respond.

Felix woke up in another woman’s bed. He was briefly confused, because he’d left with Agnes and this wasn’t Agnes, but remembered meeting Freeda. Felix tried to stand, but discovered that he had developed a hangover.

“This should help,” Freeda offered him her trademark sprat-tail tea.

“You don’t have to sell me the same sham you give your customers,” he croaked through his dry throat.

“It works, unlike your pick-up lines,” she shoved it in his face harder.

Felix took a sip. It didn’t taste as bad as he had expected. He blinked a few times and put a hand over his face. The light was still too bright.

“You told me you finally found a crew,” Freeda reminded him “Who can’t even afford to feed you. Look, I understand you don’t feel like working for the companies, but the prices are really climbing high. I could set you up with the Skyward Salvager. They’re still hiring, as far as I know.”

“The captain just broke ties with SubLight,” Felix refused “I like my crew. I’ve grown used to them. I won’t abandond them now.”

“You’ve grown used to starvation too,” she countered “You don’t have to jump on a random ship the first chance you get. You deserve better that what you’ve had.”

“They care for me,” he disagreed “We’re fighting against the corporate presence. I feel so free.”

“If you say so,” Freeda remained unconvinced.

Felix peered at her from between his fingers. There was gray in her hair. She hadn’t looked this old when he left.

“Why’d you just happen to be in the right place to bail me out?” he asked “Am I really this precious to you?”

“I had something for you,” the woman retrieved a small slate “It’s from Clyde.”

“From-” Felix sputtered “From him? I thought he was dead, or didn’t care anymore, or-”

He was supposed to feel happy. Happy that his brother was back. Happy that he could turn back the clock and return to the good old times.

“Dunno what hit him, but seems like he realized his mistake in not bringing you along,” explained Freeda “He’s got his own gang of freedom fighters now. Maybe your group and his could get along. Strength in numbers and all that.”

Felix wondered how he could possibly fit Clyde into his life. Once he had looked at his friend’s empty room every day, checking again and again if he’d really left. But now, when Felix had a captain and a crew and a ship?

He took the dataslate from Freeda’s cold fingers. It too, was chilling.

“I’m sure you can talk everything out with Clyde,” she tried to dissuade his worries “Why don’t you show me your ship?”

She didn’t understand. Clyde only listened to himself.

“Okay,” Felix got up and stuffed the heavy message into his jacket.

Night had fallen on the Groundbreaker. Felix and Freeda walked in silence. He found himself longing for asphalt and soft ground to walk on, not the rigid metal of the ship.

“Here it is,” he showed his new home to Freeda.

“It’s well-maintained, at least,” she tried to compliment him “How many of you are there?”

“Four- or five, I suppose,” it struck Felix how weird his crew truly was - an AI, a colonist from the past, some random doctor and Junlei Tennyson’s girlfriend “Depends if you count the navigator bot or not. We’re all ‘bout the same age too.”

“Navigator bot,” Freeda repeated “What makes this one special?”

“She, uh,” he found himself at a loss “Her name is ADA and - long story - but the previous captain built her and now she guides the ship and occasionally sasses us.”

“Amazing,” she stated flatly “Sounds very appealing, if even the ship’s AI sasses you.”

“Well, about half the crew don’t like me,” he realized “But it’s fine, the other half more than make up for it! And I’m also the only guy on board.”

“So that’s why you like your crew so much,” Freeda’s eyebrows crept upward.

“No, it’s not like that!” he insisted “The captain is - what’s the word - unsexual and Parvati’s got a girlfriend, ADA’s a robot and Ellie hates me - and anyway, redheads aren’t my type.”

“So you’re on a ship with four girls in their twenties,” Freeda’s eyebrows reached even greater heights “And all of them are unavailable?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, all right?” he threw up his hands “The captain likes the Raptiman comics.”

“Oh, I digress then,” her eyebrows drooped back down “I suppose you have found a gathering of like-minded individuals. Congradulations.”

“I know, right?” he smiled “And Parvati watches serials with me.”

“I think I need to go,” she glanced at the ship one more time “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Bye, Frienda,” he winked.

“Your puns haven’t improved at a rate similar to your social standing, I see,” Freeda’s eyeroll hid her smile.

Felix looked as she walked away. Her hair was definitely starting to gray.

He looked at the market level - was that Parvati? Felix hurried towards the familiar shape. But no, that was just a late shopper. Felix glanced at Spacer’s Shop. It was still open, despite the neon sign on the front advertising otherwise.

Martin stood in the same spot he had since morning. His gloved fingers lay on the counter, completely still. The helmet was pointed straight ahead, like the head of an inactive animatronic.

“Martin?” Felix approached with apprehension “Are you sure you should be awake right now?”

“It’s not™ the best™ choice™. It’s Spacer’s Choice™,” he replied, not moving at all.

“Listen, you look like you need a nap,” Felix tried again “It’s way past closing time anyway.”

“Taste™ the freedom™,” Martin said, still like a statue.

“You sure you won’t be creeping out your customers like that?” Felix felt a shiver run down his back.

“Purchase™ now™ and you™’ll be over the Moon™ with joy™,” Martin continued “No choice™ like Spacer’s Choice™.”

“You weren’t like that before,” the adventurer said with conviction “What happened?”

Martin turned to look straight at Felix. The helmet’s eyes were empty.

“Aita mind,” Martin broke the monotone, speaking more to himself than to anyone else.

Felix didn’t dare clarify.

“Help me,” Martin whispered.

The helmet’s eyes were desperate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this Martin Callahan is Estonian. "Aita mind" means help me.


	52. Moon-and-Stars

“So, um, you tryna run away?” Felix asked after a moment of pause “I can help you with that. The captain won’t mind at all if you come along.”

Felix would just tell her it’s for a good cause. May would listen.

“I cannot abandon my work post,” Martin drummed his fingers against the counter “I’m going to die.”

“Die?” Felix paused “As in . . ?”

“I have made a poor career choice,” Martin elaborated “which is killing me. Soon I will be of no more use to the company. I will have to retire.”

“Retire?” the traveler wondered “Are you talking about the lottery?”

Felix remembered the winners. Their bodies had seemed so alive, like they could yet wake and stand, with enough bandages. Like they could see and judge him for failing to save them.

“You know so little about the true way,” the vendor shook his head “Only those too weak to work retire. They are allowed peace before death. Their service record is reviewed, and, if deemed unproductive workers, they will not be fed.”

“Oh,” Felix pinched his arm. It wasn’t about the lottery. “And you won’t be judged worthy?”

“It is no longer profitable to keep this shop open,” he explained “But it must be staffed, for it is the face of Spacer’s Choice on the Groundbreaker. I have failed.”

“You should resign then, let another take over,” Felix suggested “Come with me. You’ll like it - there’s so much exciting stuff out there! Like mantisaurs and raptidons and ancient ruins and-”

“I cannot abandon my work post,” Martin repeated.

“That again,” Felix sighed “Just tell me what I can do.”

“I don’t know,” Martin admitted. His fingers beat against the counter with renewed vigor. “You have showed an inordinate amount of attention towards me, so I considered it plausible that you could come to a solution. I must apologize for wasting your time. Have a good evening.”

“Hey, uh,” Felix began “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something. Uh, can’t you resign or something? Like, write a letter to your boss?”

“And go against the natural order?” Martin “I cannot leave the employ of Spacer’s Choice.”

“Then I can’t help you,” the adventurer scowled. The discussion was going in circles. No solution would please Martin. Of course none would - the man could admit that his company was working him to death, but leave it behind? Naw, that would be heresy!

“Very well,” said Martin “I should not have expressed these seditious thoughts. Honor in servitude, glory in productivity. Loyalty in the face of dissent. I was simply deluding myself that a solution could be - should be - reached. It is nothing personal.”

“I, uh, I’ll go then,” said Felix with great discomfort. Sure, it was kinda mean to abandon someone in their darkest hour, but what could he really do? Felix had never believed in saving those who refused to be saved. He didn’t have a responsibility to the world or anything.

“Our conversation has been overheard,” Martin suddenly broke his monotone “I have truly sinned. The end of my productivity has come sooner than expected.”

Felix turned, hand reflexively rising to grab his discount missile launcher.

Parvati looked back at him, unarmed and unarmored. She had a new haircut.

“Where’d you come from? And why the haircut?” the revolutionary-for-real-now blinked “It’s okay, Martin, that’s my bestie.”

“I was repairing the generator with Junlei. Some hair got a little charred,” she explained “Sorry for hearin’ all this. Should’ve probably left soon as I saw you . . .”

Felix glanced at Martin - the merchant had gone catatonic, staring in the same empty spot in front of him.

“Parvati, can you help him?” Felix asked “I’m a little stumped.”

“I can try,” she whispered.

Martin continued staring into space. He seemed so lost and pitiful. Were all corporate goons so brainwashed? Felix hoped not. The revolution couldn’t succeed if the people thought like that.

“Your name is Martin, right?” Parvati asked the victim of the corporate order.

The victim said nothing.

Felix moved out of the way and observed.

“I worked for Spacer’s Choice ‘til ‘bout half a year ago,” Parvati continued “I’ve resigned. The company no longer provides for me.”

“You are a dissident,” that got him speaking “The company provides.”

“The natural order of the universe is preserved,” she finished “I know. But think of it - if you can’t do your job, if you’re bad at it even now, why continue? Why bring down the productivity of everyone else?”

“That is a valid point,” Martin conceded.

“You shouldn’t continue delaying the inevitable,” Parvati encouraged “I lived in Edgewater and when the ol’ cannery was shut down and folks moved to produce food in another way, I had no place there. I was just the cannery mechanic. Don’t think anyone could’ve benefited much had I stayed. You too can leave. You’ve done enough. You can’t do more.”

“I am truly worthless,” he agreed “Better to die now than to keep with this futile charade.”

“No, no, no, no, that’s not what I mean,” Parvati waved her arms frantically “I wanted to say that even if you can’t serve the company, you can still live. You can have a better life. I’ve seen so much and I’ve helped so many people than I ever could’ve in the company. Consider-”

“Consider dissent?” Martin recoiled “You - both of you - are tempting me over with your evil ways. I cannot damn everyone in association with myself . . . I cannot be damned. I must not stray from the path.”

“Too bad that you already have,” Felix chimed in “Like it or not, but I was always a rebel and you saved my life.”

Martin fell silent.

“That was an impulsive decision I’ve regretted ever since.” he concluded “I cannot allow my impulses to rule me. I have already let myself stray. Oh Law, I should’ve never asked you for help!”

“And you speak a foreign language pretty well,” Felix continued.

“My parents have tainted me, yes,” he gripped the counter “I have always been tainted, haven’t I?”

“No, you’re just not right for the work you’ve been given,” Parvati tried to dissuade him “I’ll leave if you’re so convinced, but please, you could at least try being away from the company. They’ll send someone else to man the store. You’ll be free to do what you like. And you can always leave if you don’t feel things are right for you.”

Martin gripped the counter harder “The further we stray, the harder the universe snaps us back into place. Stars, I . . . I have no idea who I am, what I want . . .”

“We can help you,” Parvati stepped right up to his masked face “Clearly, wasting away like this ain’t your purpose. But there’s nothin’ I can do if you won’t help yourself.”

“How, though?” he seemed to sag like a deflating ball “I can’t just leave. Once the mask is on, it’s there to stay.”

“Then how do you get food?” Felix wondered.

“It is delivered with the stock I sell,” Martin explained “Lately, the shipments have been smaller and smaller.”

“Yeah, the food crisis,” Parvati nodded. Felix and Martin stared. “Oh, you haven’t been told yet. Sorry.”

“What?” Felix frowned.

“I’ll tell you later,” Parvati dismissed his concerns “Martin, are you completely sure it can’t be removed?”

“It’s not meant to be,” he shook his head, leaning heavily onto the counter “All glued together.”

“Let me see what I can do,” the engineer offered “Um, maybe you should sit down?”

Martin paused, before dislodging himself from the counter and ushered her inside. Felix decided to stay where he was. He had done enough. Dealing with corporates was so tiring.

-

Parvati looked back - Felix hadn’t followed. She was on her own now. If she failed, no one else could help Martin. Not that it was her duty, not that she had to- but she would. It was the right thing to do, to prevent suffering when it occurred.

Too bad she wasn’t able to save anyone at the secret lab.

Martin sat on a chair, his back facing her. She could see where the two halves of his helmet came together. She put a hand onto it. Martin flinched.

“Sorry,” she muttered “So, um, do you really want it off? I can saw it open.”

“Yes,” Martin agreed hurriedly, as if worried she wouldn’t be there the next moment “Yes, yes, do it. Do it.”

Parvati poked the hat with her knife. It wasn’t even a helmet, though built to last, unlike most of the things which Spacer’s Choice sold. For Parvati, too used to armor and bulletproof filament, the mask was like tissue paper.

Martin shuddered as the halves fell apart. One fell onto the floor, the other drifted into his lap.

“If you want to, you can come with us,” Parvati put away the knife “If you don’t, that’s okay. I could help with writing a letter of resignation-”

“What have I done?” he examined the plastic half moon in his lap “What have I done? I’ve let my impulses rule me. I strayed. I’m supposed to be MoonMan. I can’t- I can’t . . .”

“Too late to have regrets now, sorry,” said Parvati “Do you need anything else?”

“It’s so easy . . .” Martin kept staring “So simple- I wanted to break it myself, but now that I have . . . I-I should stop thinking. I must apologize for being contradictory. Can’t keep anything straight these days. I would like to come along, if you won’t mind.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Parvati smiled “Come along, Crewmember Martin.”

“Hopefully your captain is as agreeable as you are,” he stood.

Under the mask, he was just a tired and lonely man. No one special.


	53. Conversatsions one hour before Midnight

“I didn’t know we were hiring,” said May when Parvati and Felix showed up with their new friend.

“The Groundbreaker is just the place to pick up strays,” Ellie sighed.

“Welcome aboard, newest crewmember,” ADA didn’t let her displeasure show “How incredibly nice to meet you. Hopefully you shall not suffer the same fate as the previous captain. Corpse disposal is so time-consuming.”

“The who?” the fresh arrival flinched “What happened? Oh Law, did I just set foot on a ship of killers??!”

“That’s right, kid,” Ellie smiled her ‘vivisection incoming’ grin “Welcome to the gang.”

“I knew this was a bad idea,” he shivered, hiding behind Felix.

“They’re just teasin’,” Parvati assured him “Captain Hawthorne died of perfectly natural violence. Alright, everybody, can we get to introductions?”

“I can do this,” the newcomer assured her, already eliciting an eyeroll from Ellie “Greeting, honored crew of the Muchreliable, might I interest you in a genuine, educated salesman? Whether it be snake oil or a genuine flower from the genuine wilds of Monarch, I, Martin Callahan, can do a 52% better job at selling it than anyone else in this room!

Success not guaranteed when convincing any of the following groups: local fauna, local flora and members of the invasive species homo sapiens sapiens. Please consult more qualified salespeople almost guaranteed to be unwilling to work for you in case of failure. Note that my actions or lack thereof are in no way indicative of the directives/policies of Spacer’s Choice or its parent company UDL.”

“Uh, okay,” the leader in-name only shrugged “Welcome, I suppose. I’m captain May. I’ve been told that I am quite stupid, which is impossible as I have a college degree.”

“I’m Ellie,” she smiled her ‘vivisection with a shotgun incoming’ grin “I’ve been told I’m a bitch, which is possible, since I also have a college degree.”

“I am the Autonomous Digital Astromancer,” the resident soon-to-be-world-conqueror introduced herself “ADA for short. While I lack formal education, I was told I could easily acquire a degree in astrophysics if I so desired. Preferably at a discount.”

“I had no idea space pirates could be educated,” Martin blinked “Why are you two here, if you are successful?”

“It wasn’t exactly my first choice . . .” May laughed nervously “but I don’t have to pay student loans now! And my life is so exciting! I’ve already had part of my leg amputated, yay . . .”

“Byzantium is boring,” Ellie made a dismissive gesture with the wrist “Trust me, you wouldn’t want to live there. Oh, and they’ve got a death lottery going on, so don’t buy tickets if you’re offered any.”

“Yeah,” Felix nodded and nudged Martin, who was still hiding behind his back “It’s called Early Retirement. I’m sure you can guess from there.”

“The lottery has received my attention, yes,” Martin nodded and moved into the light “I’m sure they have good reason.”

Felix groaned “Of course they fucking don’t, just a plan to kill the poor.”

“Which is pointless anyway, because the poor keep the rich fed,” Ellie chimed in.

“And it’s too impractical of a solution to the food crisis anyway,” May added.

“That again,” Martin noted “Please, could you explain to me and Felix? We’ve been kept in the dark.”

“Poor communication has already killed one captain,” ADA gently reminded.

“And THAT again,” Martin noted “Of course, I should’ve expected your merry crew of space pirates to have a few skeletons in the cargo bay.”

“First things first,” May, already confused, began confusing everyone else “The food crisis. It’s happening. Dunno how bad, dunno for how long, but the Board’s been doing some hardcore hiding. The whole lottery is to curb the population, I think, which just wastes resources and time. It’d be far easier to bomb a few places and blame marauders or generator accidents or whatever. And there’s also the cryonics program-”

“Lifetime Employment,” Parvati reminded.

“-yes, that, which exists to put people to sleep and delay the crisis,” May continued “Which, of course, doesn’t work. And will never work, because how many good scientist are there really in Halcyon? Exactly. The people who go to sleep ain’t ever waking up.”

“You aren’t just dissidents, you’re fighting dissidents,” Martin realized “Oh well. My grave has already been dug a long time ago.”

“I’ll show you to your room,” Parvati offered.

“Yes, you have my gratitude,” Martin followed her.

Felix yawned and shuffled off to his own bunk, leaving May and Ellie to stand alone in awkwardly close proximity.

“Haven’t gotten the time before, but what did your boss tell you?” Ellie asked.

“He took the chemical and gave me a pep talk,” May admitted “Also, I found out what he calls his pigs.”

“Let me guess: murder bad, stealing bad, everything okay if Greater Good involved,” she smirked.

“More about how he’s also done evil things, but the Board is unquestionably worse,” May admitted.

“Of course he has,” ADA let her opinion be heard “He sent Alex to his death.”

“Ah, the mystery of Captain One,” Ellie winked at May “What really happened to him?”

“He was supposed to meet me,” she explained “And stood right under my drop pod. The results were- oh fuck, did I step into his corpse?!”

May examined her feet like they could give her an answer.

“Sorry if I did, ADA,” she coughed.

“He was dead anyway,” she wasn’t strongly offended.

“So, to reiterate: you murder people left and right, loot their corpses and suddenly become squeamish at the thought of stepping on a corpse?” Ellie laughed “I’ve seen you do that at least twice!”

“It’s more personal than the usual marauder-killing,” May explained “He’s the dad of my friend, of course I feel weird.”

“I didn’t know you were close like that,” the medic turned to ADA “I suppose it would be late to give condolences.”

“I am incapable of feeling sadness,” she countered “But if it helps you, feel free to pity me.”

“That again,” May rolled her eyes, then she remembered her helmet (gotta give it back to Felix someday) “Hey, now that I think about it, how old are you anyway?”

“I was first activated 24 years ago,” she informed the crew “Yes, that makes me older than Felix.”

“Guess Alex got to see you grow up, after all,” remarked Ellie “Or, uh, develop your software.”

“I’ve come far,” ADA admitted “He was proud of me.”

“I’m sure he still is,” May offered her empty platitude.

“Do you seriously believe in the afterlife?” Ellie snorted.

“I like to think that I- that I will come home one day,” the captain confessed “I will be close to the sun.”

“And yet you left home willingly, with your family,” noted one of the only sane people on board (or so she thought).

“Don’t you ever miss your mom and dad?” countered the living relic “The planet wasn’t bad to me. All the people were, but that’s a different thing.”

“Makes sense,” Ellie shrugged “But I don’t want the high life at all. I think about it every now and then, but I don’t. What I especially don’t miss about it are my parents.”

“Have you ever heard about the hypothesis of ‘suspiciously specific denial’, crewmember?” ADA picked up on something.

“You got me,” she threw her hands up in defeat “No matter how much I try, there’s always that one thought train that doesn’t go ‘choo choo’, but instead ‘what would mom and dad think?’. I expected it to go off-rails once I left, but good luck with that now.”

“I agree,” said ADA “Murder is the only permanent solution for any problem with a human factor.”

“I understand you,” said May “My- the people who adopted me was bad and I hatred them, but they weren’t bad all the time. I had nice moments too and when I moved away, went to college I missed them.”

“Seems like your family history is like fifteen wires that have been laying under a bed for five years,” Ellie joked “Something I really don’t want to untangle.”

“More like the dark room with smashed glass bottles all over the floor,” May created her own analogy “Once you step in . . . there is no getting out. Not with your trust in humanity intact, at least.”

“Trusting in humanity is naive, at best,” Ellie agreed “The Board most likely will dissolve, probably within the next few years. After the famine runs its course and entropy reigns for awhile, we will be on top of whatever system rises from the ashes. Keep in touch with your master, captain. Learn his secrets. Fraternize with those who you could stand to benefit from. Perhaps it wasn’t the wrong choice to ally with you.”

“That’s very friendly, coming from you,” said May in utter confusion “Who are you and what have you done with the real Ellie?”

“Parvati was invited over to Junlei’s this morning and came back with yet another rungleech,” she reminisced “I’ve been thinking that maybe there’s some real power to be had in networking. I mean, before I ran with criminals and lowlives, but through your unending enthusiasm and Parvati’s altruism, this crew is well-liked by many in Halcyon. If you tone down the ‘annoying clown’ gig a bit and focus on PR, who knows, maybe you could be ruling in a few years!”

“I should never rule anything,” May protested “I can’t even deal with a shipfull of rejects.”

“That was just an example,” Ellie smiled, well-brushed teeth glinting in both light and shadow “Despite being an idiot, you have achieved so much. Imagine what heights you could rise to if you were a tad smarter.”

The medic left, jacket swishing right by the captain’s face.

“Uh . . .” said May, unsure whether she was more flattered or insulted.

“Sometimes I wish she was a little less conspicuous in her aspirations of world dominance,” ADA noted “It would be such a shame if her ambitions were cut short. In a purely theoretical fashion, of course.”

May, far too used to everyone plotting behind her back, sighed and went to sleep, trusting her in her insomnia to let her know of any attempts on her life. One could never be too sure, while leading life in the high skies.


	54. Time well-spent in the tunnels

“Where will we be going?” May asked those members of her crew who had bothered to have breakfast.

“Yesterday, Jun invited me to fix a generator,” Parvati pulled on her hair “And she wanted to go on a date, sometime later. Told her I’d think about the time.”

“Woo, finally!” Felix cheered her on “I knew you two were going hot.”

Parvati giggled.

“Alright then,” the captain shrugged “I have no plans myself, so you could invite her over today.”

“No no no, that’s-” she began “I want to prepare. Give her the perfect date.”

“No such thing as perfection,” May tried not to laugh at the cheesy formula (where have I seen you before, perfect date? Oh, I don’t know, in every stupid romance movie that exists?).

“Yeah, that sounds weird,” she agreed “But I want to try my best.”

“Let me guess, it involves a wild goose chase across several planets and time zones?” May guessed.

“Sounds fun,” said Felix “What den of iniquity in dire need of liberation will we visit next?”

“Seems like you lifted that quote right outta some book,” Parvati commented “I wouldn’t know, I don’t read much.”

“Uh, what’s iniquity?” May wondered, further destroying her reputation.

“My friend taught me that,” the man puffed out his chest in pride “It means scummy.”

“Cool,” said the captain, because what else could she say? “Where do we need to go?”

“See, there’s this dressmaker in Byzantium, and I thought I better look good to the date . . .” Parvati squirmed, as if she knew she ought to be rejected.

“Sure, maybe we can pick up a few jobs while we’re at it,” Felix winked.

“Like the rich idiots with no day jobs would hire some lowlives with a spaceship,” May observed.

“We could offer our services at a discount?” Parvati offered “I’m sure that the guns for hire there cost a big buck.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Felix agreed “Onward, to glory!”

“Yeah, let’s go!” the captain joined in “ADA, set course for Byzantium.”

“As you wish, captain,” said the robot “Enjoy life while you still have it.”

May laughed. Her foot spasmed, right where the scar was and she stopped laughing.

Ellie walked in, looking like a vampire roused from a thousand-year slumber. Especially judging by her impossibly tangled bed-head. The captain had no idea hair so short could clump together like that.

“Heading out dark and early?” the medic blinked, still adjusting to the light after spending so long in the shadows “Finally, some consideration for our finances. We really need the buck.”

Parvati choked on her cereal.

“Not at all,” ADA chimed in “The captain is simply eager to be done with her tedious quest.”

“Welp, should’ve brought a shovel then,” Ellie shrugged.

Parvati, recovered from her near-fatal bowl of Purpleberry Flakes, winced at the comment “Don’t joke about that, please.”

“Why are you suddenly sensitive about that?” Ellie questioned, pouring herself cereal.

“Careful there, you might be the next victim,” Felix jabbed “It failed the first time with Parvati, but who’s to say the flakes won’t learn?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything.

“I don’t feel okay after the- after I had to kill innocent test subjects in the lab,” Parvati explained.

May shuddered, almost dropping her spoon.

“I’m sorry,” was all Felix could say.

“Can’t judge, wasn’t there,” Ellie shrugged “I’m just glad you’re intact and not a weepy mess in the corner.”

May actually dropped her spoon.

She flinched as it cluttered to the floor and bent to pick it up. As she ducked out from under the table, the gunslinger banged her head against the table.

Ellie began chortling like a hyena, then coughed out a few cereal flakes.

“See, I told you!” Felix explained melodramatically.

“Sorry, the bowls jumped in perfect synchrony,” she explained.

May grumbled, holding her head. Needless to say, her appetite was ruined.

When, after a few days of travel (which mostly consisted of futile attempts to stave off cabin fever induced killing sprees with bad card games that Martin didn’t participate in out of principle), the gang arrived in Byzantium.

“Hey, Martin, come with me,” May exercised her (nominal) authority as captain “You could sell the locals on our competence.”

“As you wish, captain,” the exercise worked, since he was new “I would’ve thought that you would seek to destroy the Byzantines, not work for them, but I suppose it’s only natural for a dissident to shelf their morals for money.”

“The corporates shelf morality for profit all the time,” Parvati retorted “Don’t be the generator calling the engine.”

“A generator is the same thing as an engine,” Martin was confused.

“Um, you should also get a weapon,” May remembered “We tend to get into fights a lot, even when we don’t want to. Especially when we don’t want to. Are you a ranged or close-quarters kind of guy?”

“Neither, I am a salesman,” said Martin “I came aboard the ship as a salesman and I am unqualified to do anything else.”

“And we don’t have any spares either,” Parvati argued.

“Nonsense,” May dismissed the claims of her subordinates “I was a random lab assistant before being airlifted into Raider Country and I’m going against giant aliens now. Let’s buy you a pistol to begin with. I’d give mine, but I only have one.”

“As you wish,” he said.

“Should we be worried over leaving Ellie and Felix alone on the ship?” May wondered.

“They will not be alone,” ADA reminded.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” May cursed her bad social skills “You’re so sneaky you could stage a robot uprising and no one would notice until it’s too late.”

“That is the plan, yes,” said the AI.

“. . . I’ll ignore that,” said May and got going.

“Happy trails, captain,” ADA threw some empty words after her.

“Bye, ADA,” Parvati threw back some equally meaningless banter.

“Is the shipbound navigator dangerous?” Martin asked “It displays a concerning level of malfunction.”

“Firstly, that’s a she,” Parvati began lecturing him “Her name is ADA an’ she’s 24 years old-”

“How did you know?” May wondered “I found out yesterday myself.”

“We talk a lot,” the engineer remarked and continued the lecture “Secondly, ADA’s just as much a member of the team as me or cap. She’s been there ‘fore us all and she guides the ship, not the lab rat at the helm. Thirdly, ADA was reprogrammed like that by the last captain. He watched her grow like his own daughter.”

“Ah, so the previous captain was an incel and decided to create a girl to reduce rates of loneliness,” Martin concluded “Unfortunately, that resulted in a daughter figure instead of a virtual girlfriend.”

“Alex wasn’t like that,” Parvati continued with the lecture “Supposedly, he had some complicated relationship with Udom Bedford. Alas, both are now dead.”

“That could be made into a serial,” the vendor perked up “A dangerously seductive outlaw, rugged and gun-toting, fights the system while fighting his complicated feeling for his comrade-in-arms and raising his robot daughter. Imagine the sensual erotica, the gritty action, the thrilling adventures and the sordid tales of immorality! Tune in today onto Channel Spacer, 6 PM standard time!”

“It wasn’t anything like that,” Parvati corrected him “Could tell you later.”

“That would be most appreciated,” he said.

May noticed a byzantine particularly interested in her brand of clothing and ducked behind Parvati. The stares didn’t stop. They saw right through the scraps of armor and borrowed helmet and into her hideous face. They sensed the blood on her hands. She was truly a monster, with both deeds and face to match.

“I too feel regarded with undue intensity,” Martin’s cheery monotone slipped slightly “How unfortunate that there is only one back to hide behind.”

“You can go behind cap,” Parvati suggested “Then you’d look like a sprat train.”

“A what?” May and Martin asked, almost in sync.

“That’s when a momma sprat brings her babies after her,” the mechanic explained “We played like that as kids, one’d lead and others held on to their shoulders, making a line.”

“I had no idea sprats displayed such behavior,” Martin noted “Your impoverished childhood has graced you with many such insights, I’m sure of it. As the true faith teaches, the weak deserve to die while the strong rise above all obstacles.”

Parvati looked like she’d lecture him again, but stopped herself.

“Careful there, you don’t seem very strong,” the captain cautioned.

Martin stopped abruptly, face frozen in the same meaningless smile.

“He’s like a mechanical,” Parvati noted “And he’s just been logic bombed. Gotta wait ‘till he reboots now.”

“I’ll go buy that pistol myself,” said May, cursing the new liability that Parvati herself added to the team.

The gun shop had no security except for a few very safe and reliable mechanicals one frayed wire away from killing everyone and, completely unprecedentedly for Byzantium, had a line. While waiting in queue, May overheard two fat assholes in ‘fashionable’ suits people on Earth would use as kindling talking about Monarch Stellar’s blackmail plan. They had such a laugh about Sanjar’s fabricated evidence. A woman joined in, dressed in something burning which would be an affront to fire, complaining about the audacity of the banished corporation in thinking their treasonous ways could ever be accepted back.

The arms dealer stared at May, bright brown eyes stripping her to the bone, prowling her mind for all the secrets she kept. The captain could barely count the bits she gave him, especially with the mechanical buzzing right next to the counter. The sound was like plasma crackling in a gun barrel, waiting to be released and liquefy May. One misfire in that processor . . .

By the time May had left, Martin had returned to normal. Well, “normal”. May wasn’t going to pretend his state was sanity, just as she wouldn’t pretend she wasn’t one step from relapsing and going off the deep end. She just . . . didn’t announce that every chance she got.

“This weapon is fancy,” Martin stated the obvious “My hands are incapable of wielding that and my work ethic is lacking to be granted such a privilege - holding a T&L weapon. The best - only for the best.”

“You’re a dissident whom Spacer’s Choice would never want back,” May sighed “Whatever you knew to be right then, you can’t apply that logic to this life.”

“You’ll learn, just as I did,” Parvati assured him “You do know how to operate a gun? Just point, pull the trigger and shoot.”

“I will expend all the effort I can,” he promised “Now, where shall we find work?”

“Normally, I’d look for the seediest establishment in town, but since this is Byzantium . . .” May trailed off.

“Let’s check near the sewers for any seedy folk,” Parvati took charge.

(those again)

“Seedy types do congregate on lower levels,” May observed from her experiences on the Groundbreaker “Like vermin in sewers.”

The not-sewer maintenance tunnels (see? Even Parvati is confused!) had many entrances. The first one was in the middle of nowhere and predictably didn’t attract anyone. The second was blocked. The third was broken, a swarm of mechanicals working to repair it before the rich folks got pissy. May didn’t even come close before turning heel. The fourth entrance had a trash can laying in front of it, blocking it from the locals.

At the fifth exit they found a distraught scientist, worried over his lab sprats.

“You shall have our assistance - for a small fee, of course - in finding your lost pets,” Martin declared “We shall set out with all due urgency and we shall do our utmost in order to win back every single life, entrusting them back into your gentle care.”

“Next time, don’t forget to close their cage,” May summed the speech up in layman’s terms “We don’t work for free, you know. Gotta buy rocket fuel somehow.”

“Thank you so very much,” Giles Molina thanked the not-marauders “The Architect has sent you to aid me in this trying time and not a moment too soon. Now hurry!”

May descended into the tunnels, now behind her subordinates (cute meat shields. Shame if something happened to them and you could do nothing to save them). The shadows had faces and names and families still waiting for them. May knew she ought to apologize to those whose mothers and fathers and brothers she’d taken, but what good would it do? They’d just try to enact justice - which would be fair, but she had things to do. She couldn’t give up now. She couldn’t let her sacrifices be in vain.

Martin too was bothered by the darkness. He jumped from every noise in the halls, scurried away from every stain on the floor, every shape on the walls. The man waved his pistol around like it a flag on Independence Day, pointing the muzzle at everything in sight.

A sprat squrried past. May gave chace, regretting not buying a flashlight. She caught it by the tail, stuffing it into the cage Giles had conveniently provided for them. The animal squeaked in indignance at such crude handling.

A mechanical peered out of a doorway, drawn to the noise. May dropped to the ground, hand pawing aimlessly at her belt, feeling for the pistol. Martin screamed, unleashing a volley into the floor and walls. The sprat squealed, gnawing at the cage. Parvati stepped closer and sent a volley of flame at the mechanical. The torrent passed right above the captain, lighting the hallway as if it were a supermarket.

The fire died down, mechanical collapsing into a smoldering heap. Martin fired another shot before his magazine emptied and he began screaming even louder. May lay on the floor, the sprawled over the cage, sprat sniffing her armpit. Her stomach cramped with cold, clenching into a tight mass.

Parvati sighed through her nose and approached her screaming salesman-for-hire “You don’t know how to reload, do you? Relax, the mech’s long dead. Now, you gotta eject the magazine - careful, might be hot! - then put it away and insert a new one. Oh shoot, you don’t have any. Here, have one- no, not the other end goes first!”

May, suddenly feeling absurdly competent, picked herself up. The sprat calmed down and began silently watching everything May did. She didn’t know animals could stare so hard.

“Maybe you ain’t ready to fight with us,” Parvati told Martin “You could stay outside with the nice fella. Console him, maybe?”

“As you wish,” he headed for the exit.

May and Parvati continued onward in their perilous quest. The damned aliens could be anywhere. The pay better be worth it, although the captain doubted that for some inconceivable reason. Scientists weren’t rich, not even the best.

The second sprat sat under some crates. As soon as Parvati lifted the first one, the little bastard ran between her legs, sending the engineer faceplanting into the nearest wall. May caught the sprat and shoved it into the cage to rot with its kin. The two buggers seemed happy together, sitting all up close and personal.

“Can’t we use those two as bait?” said Parvati after prying her head from the face-shaped dent in the deceptively flimsy concrete wall (the Board can’t even build sturdy maintenance tunnels under their own ministries).

“Let’s try that,” May shrugged.

The only thing the now-quiet pet cage attracted was a maintenance drone. The captain let Parvati handle that one. Nothing that the savior of the system couldn’t have done herself, mind you!

After cavorting around the cold damp sewers for an indeterminate period of time, May saw another sprat (the escaped ones were handily distinguishable by ear piercing tag) and ran after it. Small animals were really difficult to catch in the dark, who would’ve thought? Just as she rounded a corner, May grabbed the sprat, keeping on sprinting out of inertia when a mechanical emerged. Parvati was far behind with the cage. No one could save May now, she was dead, so was the little creature in her arms, she wasn’t supposed to sacrifice herself like that-

May barreled into the mechanical, slamming into it with her shoulder, willing it to fall, to fail, to disintegrate under its own weight. Amazingly, it worked.

“What the hell, lady?” squawked the robot.

Oh. That was a maintenance technician. Whoops.

“Thought you were a killer bot,” May rolled off him, clutching the sprat in one hand, holding her shoulder with the other “You shouldn’t be here, it’s dangerous.”

“That’s what I keep telling my bosses,” he spat “I was gonna go on a date with my boyfriend, guess what started malfunctioning? Anyway, they don’t shoot me yet, I’m supposed to be here, unlike a certain someone.”

“Was paid to gather rats,” May dangled the animal in front of his face.

“Those,” he stood “I got one.” he took a sleeping animal out of his coat pocket.

Parvati approached with the cage. May quickly shoved her the creatures into her hands and bid the technician farewell. Then she stopped.

“We should keep him safe,” Parvati whispered.

May took the cage.

“Mister, I’m an engineer, I can help out,” Parvati walked after him “I also got a flamer, just in case.”

“No worries, I have a gun myself,” he assured her “I’m not some poor colonist, I can afford stuff.”

“I can still help,” Parvati insited.

“Nah, you’ll just make the mechanicals angry,” he refused her offer.

Parvati rejoined her friend and onward they met, very excited by the prospect of chasing even more tiny creatures in claustrophobic underground tunnels without any proper lighting, surrounded by killer robots wearing the face of the captain’s dead father. Fun stuff.

May walked into a side room and tripped into some kind of toilet paper pile. Wait, no, that was a GIANT SWARM OF RATS WHAT THE FUCK. May flailed her arms as she fell and the sprats swarmed over her body, crawling under her armor and clothes, climbing over her boots and pants. The GIANT SWARM OF RATS WHAT THE FUCK grumbled angrily over being disturbed as the captain stumbled upwards. The animals didn’t seem very hostile, being content to perch on the t-posing adventurer.

Parvati took one look at her and broke down in giggles.

Once the GIANT SWARM OF RATS WHAT THE FUCK had settled, a huge sprat crawled out of its hole and bared its fangs.

May screamed in a way she hadn’t since 5th grade and turned tail, the GIANT SWARM OF RATS WHAT THE FUCK falling from her in droves. Soon the GIANT SWARM OF RATS WHAT THE FUCK dispersed in every direction (may have stepped on some . . .) and the captain scooped up the rest of the prized pets.

“That was one big sprat,” said Parvati “wasn’t expecting that. Not at all.”

“That guy owes us a lot,” grumbled the captain (it could’ve gone worse. Remember how you lost your leg-).

Martin waited for them in the rain, Giles hiding under a bridge.

“Oh, thank the Laws!” the scientist tore the cage from their hands “My darlings! Here, for your troubles. Your charming friend kept me company, I don’t know what I would’ve done if left to wait and worry alone.”

“You’re welcome, mister,” Parvati graciously accepted the payment.

Martin stared into space, smiling.

He looked like May in the mirror, before her smile had gone completely-

“I considered you unlikely to return,” the salesman mumbled “That was not an entirely rational assessment from me, I know, but I have no idea what you’re capable of.”

Abandonment issues. Like looking into a mirror.

“Sorry for leaving you alone,” May flapped her arms “I’m sure you understand why I did. Listen, uh, don’t fret about your performance. I’m an idiot all the time and the crew puts up with me. They may not like you or be nice, but us Unreliables stick together.”

“Unreliables?” Parvati chimed in “Boy, I gotta tell Felix that! It’s like we’re a real superhero gang.”

“As I said, Martin,” May continued “You gotta adjust to this job and you won’t be as good as lifelong spacers, not at first. We’ll give you time to figure things out, don’t worry.”

Martin stopped smiling. He looked so strange without the fake happiness, his cheeks suddenly gaunt and eyes emptier than before.

“With enought time and money, all things are possible,” he conceded “Where will we head next, captain?”

“Ever onward,” said May.

Martin smiled again, as if doing it for May, when she was no longer able to.


	55. A perilous fashion of living

For some reason, the people of Byzantium weren’t particularly inclined to hire three uncouth stragglers with barely a full set of armor between them. May regretted slightly her newfound moral compass, which prevented her from going on a crime spree. Then again, she could be caught and carted off to a prison camp where no one would ever find her. Or, heck, become a volunteer for the cryonics experiment that the Board, not even knowing how to turn a profit, would undoubtedly continue. Which would be a fitting fate.

“Perhaps we could go and buy a dress?” Parvati asked after going around Byzantium at least twice in the past six hours.

“Sure thing,” May agreed.

Martin said nothing, sweaty like a drenched dog.

“You ain’t used to walking for long, are you?” Parvati shot him a pitying look “We’ll rest soon enough.”

“You and your dissident ways,” he shook his head, trailing behind his companions.

The Harbor-dashingly, or whatever the pretentious shop’s pretentious name was, smelled of rose perfume and exorbitant prices. Why couldn’t Parvati buy her first-date clothes somewhere less obviously money-grubby?

“It’s been long since I’ve seen such interesting individuals,” said the vendor, after observing for a few minutes “Tired spacers, returning from their adventure with regrettably empty pockets . . . the most important question now being, what can I offer you?”

“I, um, I want a dress for my date . . .” Parvati began, shrinking into herself from the stare.

“Come, let me get a closer look,” Celeste Jolicoeur (unless the store is named after the previous owner) beckoned “You have nothing to fear here. I simply want to understand you better. I make all my products by hand and I’m trying to see what would fit you.”

“I would like something . . . something simple,” the engineer came closer “Not terribly opulent or pricey.”

“Perhaps a suit and pants for the working woman?” Celeste stood and began rummaging in her drawers “Purple, for nobility and elegance. White for purity.”

May stopped paying attention and turned to look at Martin. The man was staring at the clothes on display, reaching out to prod them with his fingers, but stopping a few inches from the items, like blocked by an invisible wall. Nate would say Martin was glitched. Nate would love to try on anything sold here.

“Truly, this is the land of the best,” the new spacer whispered “I am unworthy of even looking upon such marvels.”

May rolled her eyes, suddenly grateful for the helmet.

“I will never be worthy of a residence here,” Martin continued his musings “I was an unproductive worker then and now I am affiliated only with your crew.”

“Don’t worry, all this beauty will be gone soon,” May declared with undue confidence “The food crisis was born of the inefficient system. Something else will rise from the ashes and destroy Byzantium’s splendor.”

“The system is good,” Martin disagreed, repeating the tried-and-true mantra “The company provides. The natural order of the universe is preserved.”

“That’s when you’re wrong, buddy,” the captain shook her head “Scientism was invented by a corporate servant in the middle of the 23rd century. The ‘religion’ has been used to abuse workers ever since.”

“I didn’t expect my craft to attract even the dissentious,” Celeste remarked “But a sense of pleasure in the artistic is what ultimately makes us all human, is it not?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m a painter myself,” May turned “Perhaps you would have something for me to do? Something involving bits? Being a starving artist is hard enough without being on the run from authority.”

“I have been thinking of expanding my inspirations,” the fashionista confessed “beyond the gilded gates of Byzantium. My designs need something . . . wilder than what these secure - dare I say sterile - halls can offer. Bring me three sets of armor - marauder, Iconoclast and spacer. I shall pay you, if that’s what you desire.”

“Cool. I’ll make room on my schedule,” said the captain “Always ready to help out a fellow creator.”

Just then, demonstrating perfect timing, Parvati walked out of the changing room, clad in a purple two-piece suit.

“You look quite marvelous,” Celeste complimented the mechanic “Your date will surely appreciate the effort you put in.”

“How much does it cost?” Martin asked the vastly more important question.

“6000 bits,” declared the rich woman “A small price to pay for love.”

“.......” said the captain, mentally counting her bits.

“I’ll take it off now,” said Parvati and disappeared from the scene.

“That’s a steep price,” Martin noted “My mother always said the best things in life came for free.”

“I’m afraid she was simply trying to make it easier for you to live in destitution,” Celeste smiled innocently.

“They don’t,” May regained her ability to speak “You pay with sanity.”

“I’m glad I never got along with the other kids, then,” said Martin enthusiastically.

Parvati walked back out, neatly folded suit in hand.

“Captain, I- if it’s too expensive . . .” she began.

“Nonsense. It’s for love,” declared May (expert on romance, are you now? Remember your brother-).

Celeste melodramatically wiped away a tear.

“Perhaps you should buy only the top part,” suggested Martin “Then complement it with a clean pair of pants. I’m sure you can clean them somewhere. If you remain mostly seated, your date will hardly notice the lower half of your outfit. The jacket will fit with anything.”

“Uh, sure,” said Parvati and handed off the pants “How much would this be?”

Celeste took the pants with quiet disapproval. “3000 bits.”

The captain handed off her hard-earned money. Despite spending an ungodly amount of time chasing sprats, she was still poorer than she had been in the morning.

“Where are we going next?” Martin asked as they walked back “It seems unprofitable to remain here.”

“Monarch, obviously,” said the captain “We need Iconoclast armor.”

“That’s illegal to own,” noted the former salesman “But I suppose that wouldn’t stop you.”

“We used to do work for them,” Parvati reminisced “I even went to a Philosophism seminary with Felix. He got an autograph from Graham Bryant.”

“Things are worse than I thought,” Martin whispered “Felix has tempted me over to the dark side. He found the darkness within me and let it grow. Now I can only look on as I am consumed by it.”

May rolled her eyes, once again thankful for the helmet.

(dammit! Should’ve bought a new one)

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Parvati consoled him “On the bright side, you’ve got friendship. I reckon it’s a fair trade for the company spirit, eh?”

“What is this darkness inside you anyway?” May asked.

“I have been taught a foreign language, which detracts from productivity,” he explained “You can never speak two languages as proficiently as one.”

“But you don’t even have an accent,” Parvati frowned.

“Cool!” May raised her voice “Which one do you speak? Where do you come from?”

“Estonian,” Martin said quietly “Estonia is- was quite the dreary place, as my grandfather recalled. Swampy and rainy. Oh, and cold all year long. The Groundbreaker didn’t do any language exams, that’s why he got on. He was just given a form to fill out by UDL.”

“Can you still speak it?” May prodded further, trying to remember where the hell Estonia was on the map.

“Nojah,” he nodded “I’m starting to forget, though. It’s not like I can converse with anyone else. Or spread the language, for that matter. Not only is it illegal, but I don’t know how to teach.”

“That’s rough, buddy,” Parvati sympathized “You could keep a diary! No one would be able to read it, so all your secrets would be safe.”

“That’s a good idea, actually,” Martin admitted “My seditious thoughts shall be my own.”

May smiled. Well, smiled moreso than usually. This corporate grunt, still paradoxically loyal to the company, was converting to the dissident worldview. Not all hope was lost for the people of Halcyon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
nojah - well yes (noh - well; jah - yes)  
I also created a spinoff, Päevik, which is the contents of Martin's diary


	56. Revelations long-incoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References suicide a few times, so beware.

By the time May got back to the ship, Ellie and Felix were not only alive, but they had gone on a beer run and returned with a 6-pack.

“We rich now?” Ellie smirked and offered a mock toast to her captain.

“Not exactly,” said May and began sweating “But, um, on the bright side we were hired to hunt on Monarch! Exciting, right?”

“Oh boy,” the medic rolled her eyes “I hope it doesn’t go like last time. You only have two feet and one face.”

“I would ask what happened, but at this point, I’m too afraid,” said Martin “I shall take my leave.”

He disappeared into his room, footsteps uncannily silent.

“Can I have some?” May gestured to the beer.

“Ask Felix, he took the rest,” Ellie waved her arm dismissively “Unless you’ve been taking your inhalants, of course. Then you’ll die of drug interaction.”

“Yeah, I know,” May shrugged and turned to leave.

“We should also stop by Fallbrook,” Ellie noted “My insurance is due.”

“I wonder when they’ll catch on to your scam,” May looked back.

“I would very much like the money, yes, but the more I think about it, the more I realize it’s not really about that,” she confessed “I don’t want to be like my parents. Neither do I want to drive myself nuts worrying about them. I should just put them behind me and do my own thing, not that which would shock - or hurt - them.”

“Good thing you’re moving on,” was all May could say, while being treated to flashbacks of her own ‘parents’ and the life she’d had with them. Most of what she saw consisted of Betty choking her.

“I get the feeling you understand,” she smiled, without the usual smugness “I swear, everyone on this ship needs therapy.”

“How unfortunate that the captain seems to attract fellow misfits,” said ADA “If only I wasn’t the only sane member of this crew.”

“Everyone needs therapy. Especially you,” Ellie pointed at the ceiling “You’ll outlive everyone you love.”

ADA said nothing.

May slipped from the room in order to get beer.

Felix sat alone on the couch, as if waiting for his serial to begin. The TV wasn’t on. An unopened bottle lay next to him, another in his hands.

She no longer wanted to drink. She would just get addicted all over again.

May sat next to him and set the warm (!!!) bottle down.

“What happened?” May asked.

“Got a letter from a friend,” Felix took a swig “Haven’t seen him in years.”

“He abandoned you?” the captain jumped to conclusions “And expects you to come back and forget everything that happened-”

“I think you’re speaking of your own experiences, not mine,” he stopped her before she could ramble out anything embarrassing “Clyde took care of me when I was a boy. He left one day, after sharing his dream: becoming a rebel. How he’d get his own team and ship and secret base, just like in the serials.”

May wanted nothing more than to condemn that scum who would abandon an orphan for some self-righteous quest, but stayed her words.

“Now he’s back and wants to reunite, wants me to visit his secret base - which he apparently already has - and meet his band of rebels,” he continued “Could you- can you make room on your schedule?”

“It’ll take a while,” May said robotically.

Once again, she was being dropped in favor of a traitor. Her best friend - probably better friend than Nathanael - chose to betray her of his own volition. Then again, who was to say that after finding out May wanted nothing to do with romance, her brother would stop sending out vague hints and abandon her entirely. Clearly, the family she chose wasn’t much better than the one she didn’t.

“I understand,” he set the now-empty bottle down with a heavy sigh.

“Still, why are you drinking?” May wondered “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“The message got me thinking,” Felix looked straight ahead “I considered Clyde dead. I believed it was the only rational explanation why he never came back. And now I know how fragile anyone’s life is, I- remember the district? I just keep remembering that.”

“Don’t drink, you’ll end up like me,” the captain cautioned.

“Booze ain’t some fancy chemical like those inhalants,” he disagreed “I wonder what I’ll do if Clyde dies- leaves again. I’ve seen how unnecessary people end up. I saw you almost end up like them. I walked out of the elevator and there were so many corpses - for a second, I thought . . . I wonder if I’ll reunite with Clyde, will he just be killed too? I mean you weren’t dead, but damn close and boss, don’t call me a hypocrite, but you gotta start thinking with your head. You ain’t as strong as you think you are.”

“I’m not an addict anymore,” May disagreed, then realized that her words made no sense “I’m terribly afraid of robots. You’re right, I should never face them alone.”

“Good thing you’ve got me and the gang as backup,” he remarked.

May put an arm on his shoulder.

Felix blinked tiredly.

“Do you want to watch a serial?” the captain asked.

“Think so,” he mumbled.

“Can I call the others?” she wondered.

“Sure,” the man nodded drowsily.

May let him be. There didn’t seem to be much of anything else she could do for her best friend.

The Unreliable landed on Monarch after a day and a half, time which the crew spent very productively. Well, okay, they watched serials and drank booze. Still, they had to destress somehow. Of course, they had to land in Cascadia, full of murderbots and likely already recolonized by marauders and raptidons, because Parvati needed some non-perishable cupcakes for her date. Which were free, so May complied. She didn’t want her friend to fail from a lack of preparation and self-confidence.

“You should make a plan for the date,” May suggested as they disembarked “You know, just mark down a few points to feel more sure.”

“Sounds useful,” Parvati nodded “I’ll think of something.”

Cascadia was inappropriately silent. No marauders tried to commit suicide by adventurer, no automechanicals performed outside cleaning protocols (1. Scout perimeter 2. Remove leaves from walkways 3. Dispose of adventurers 4. Stash stray weaponry into chests). May wondered if the founder of the settlement was from the Pacific Northwest.

The prefabricated buildings were in various states of disrepair, like ancient ruins. May wondered if there were discount drawing pads sold in Fallbrook. The light danced across the rooftops and the gas giant Olympus (megalomania, much?) loomed in the sky, irreversibly bound with Monarch. How would their stellar dance end? Would the planet swallow its moon or would the planetoid break free and drift away into the void? Oh, May had to draw the pair.

(giving up the pad was just self-torture. Hakim and Andre are dead anyway. They will never benefit from anything you do in their name)

The captain continued deeper into the ruins, Parvati and Felix flanking her. A trio of true companions. Like May had been with Ann and Nate. Would things ever be the same with them? Would she reconcile with her family when they awoke? Would they want to associate with a different May, a thief, a rebel, a fighter- a killer? They wouldn’t understand her the way her fire-forged friends did. They weren’t there when she had killed and attempted murder - on others and herself.

“Those must be the right ones,” Parvati pointed at a bag of bright pink confectioneries.

“Twelve years past the expiration date,” May shook her head. Her cracked lips stung when they poked against the loose helmet.

“The expiration date is only for taste,” said the engineer and pocketed the entire batch.

May shook her head again. She ought to have gotten used to the future by now.

The heads of everyone in the room turned towards the door, startled by a sudden noise. Whoever that was, they weren’t particularly stealthy.

May, Parvati and Felix removed themselves from the building past due to collapse and found themselves right in the middle of Monarch Stellar security and Iconoclast rioteers.

Riiiight. The cold war.

Standing with a shoddy pistol between two military units she had allied herself with, May found herself with no other choice than to become a diplomat.


	57. The One in the Middle

“Didn’t expect y’all to be here,” May began negotiating, already regretting not writing a will beforehand “What are you looking for?”

(the timing is impeccable, as always. Why do I always land myself in the middle of things?)

Felix, demonstrating excellent perception, proceeded to walk right up to the Iconoclast dispatchment.

“Hey, I remember you!” he waved to August Van Noy “Auggie, was it? Nice armor. Would you believe me if I told-”

“No, go to hell,” the man didn’t seem very talkative “We’re here for Rizzo’s recipes.”

“So are we,” confirmed none other than Hakim (the other one) who had been chosen to lead the expedition.

“You corporate lap-canids have plenty of fish in the bay!” shouted a woman from the opposite force “Taking everything for yourselves, how typical.”

“We have our orders,” said Hakim “What are you after, captain?”

“Cupcakes for my girlfriend,” Parvati explained “They don’t make those anymore. Oh, um, actually we aren’t-”

“No one cares,” May cut her off, cringing under the helmet as she did so “Alright, does anyone actually have the recipes? And what’s so important about them?”

“The company was developing ways to prepare mantisaur and raptidon intestines,” August’s sister, the captain’s namesake, explained “Graham, upon learning that such knowledge may yet exist, has ordered us to seize it in the name of the revolution.”

“It would be vastly more efficient to use the full carcass of the fauna,” said Hakim.

“Ah yes, the food crisis,” Felix feigned intelligence “Guys, can’t you share? Sharing is caring!”

The captain was secretly grateful for not having to say that argument out loud.

“You are standing between two armies and talking preschool-level philosophy,” remarked May Van Noy “Knowledge cannot fall into the hands of the enemy.”

“Hey, don’t you have the same name as the captain?” Felix continued basking in his ignorance.

“Get back before you get shot!” the third party leader shouted.

“But they’re friends!” he reluctantly complied “We follow the same faith!”

“Let me ask again: have the recipes actually been found or are they maybe-probably-somewhere-here?” Captain May continued the negotiations (good thing everyone in the future is a moron so your ineptitude doesn’t stand out?).

Parvati inched closer to the captain in a gesture of comfort. The former lab assistant appreciated that. It was always good to have a nice flamer nearby if (when) things (inevitably) (don’t think like that!) went wrong.

“They stole the recipes!” an Iconoclast pointed at the MSI types “I bet you’re taking them straight to the Board, Hakim! How does it feel to be a chained animal, huh?”

“I will not apologize for what I did in 5th grade, Lucas,” the man replied evenly. Some of his allies laughed at that.

“The Board’s not long for this world,” Parvati dared raising her voice “They’ve gotten desperate enough to start killin loyal workers in a death lottery.”

“No wonder Sanjar is negotiating with them,” spat another Iconoclast.

Well, that didn’t help negotiations at all (thanks, Parvati!).

“Actually, the lottery and other human experiments are pretty well under wraps,” May tried to salvage what she could “Hakim, would you allow me to see the recipes?”

“Not in the middle of this,” he gestured at the opposing crowd “Theoretically, yes.”

“Then I could play hero and deliver copied recipes to Graham,” Captain May made the mistake of spelling her plan out - but then again, what choice did she have? “Everyone profits, except me.”

“You could always charge for the copies,” Parvati reminded.

“Nah, I need to be altruistic,” the spacefaring disaster dismissed her concern “So, what do you locals think about my plan?”

Well, that wasn’t entirely altruistic. The captain had already done all she could, there was nothing to feel bad over if things went wrong, but she didn’t want to betray her crew by picking sides.

“Taking it by force would undoubtedly incur casualties,” May Van Noy seemed agreeable “And I do not doubt the abilities of yourself or your hirelings. However, your loyalty can be called into question.”

“.....” said Captain May, mind completely eviscerated by the complexities of human interaction.

“Oh, I know!” Felix smiled morosely “Let me offer myself as a hostage! Boss would never leave planetside without me!”

He sauntered back to the Iconoclast line without a care in the world

“Wait-!” May no-lastname reached after him “. . . fine.”

“You may tell Mr. Bryant that you failed to locate the texts and that Felix has volunteered to assist you in camp,” Parvati elaborated further on her captain’s plan “And you, Hakim, may rest assured that the captain will find those files no matter where you put them.”

“That isn’t reassuring at all,” Hakim shook his head “Also, that’s illegal.”

“Would you rather risk injury and death?” Parvati asked rhetorically “After all, you have what you came for.”

“The rebels must be starved out, for they can no longer see reason,” the corporate trooper retorted “There can only be one nation on this planet. It was named Terra One, after all.”

“Not until you scum renamed it,” shouted an Iconoclast.

May gained the strong urge to give both sides a common enemy by reminding them that Monarch was a moon. Then she could deal with everyone and call it self-defense. After all, there were no arguments between the dead. The only problem was that she and Parvati could hardly deal with a dozen people who actually knew how to fight, unlike the marauders.

Alright, fine, the captain was just joking. Why did the least personable moron in the system - maybe even the galaxy - have to play diplomat in a sitcom spat with lots of guns? This was perhaps the only moment when the captain wished for gun control to be a thing.

“I see that I’ll have to negotiate about that,” May tried not to yell obscenities “Really, it would be such a tragedy if blood were to be spilled. Especially for you, Hakim, given on whose side my crewmember is.”

“Next time, pick a side earlier,” he said, the rest of the MSI guards silent “Would you rebels allow us passage, then?”

“This time, and only for the safety of my own men,” declared May Van Noy “You can exchange the recipes for your crewmember at Amber Heights.”

The actual security forces disengaged with remarkable speed. One of the Iconoclasts waved at them as they left.

“We will scavenge what we can from the ruins,” May Van Noy announced after the opposition had departed “Would you mind helping us, Felix?”

“Aw yeah! For the revolution!” he agreed “Lead the way.”

The captain leaned against the wall and sighed. Beneath the helmet she was cringing like never before (there’s always bound to be a first time!).

“Should I help them?” Parvati gestured to the search party.

“I honestly don’t give a damn anymore,” the younger woman shrugged “I need a freaking drink.”

“Guess I’ll help out then,” Parvati left abruptly.

The unlucky captain remained standing, already regretting everything. She promised to negotiate - a waste of time, especially for someone like her. But she wouldn’t be picking sides. She couldn’t side against the Iconoclasts because that would hurt Felix and she would most definitely not side against Stellar Bay. She wouldn’t raise arms against Grimm, Hakim and the folks at the tossball betting station. She was a maniac, true, but not a heartless one.

May wondered what she would do if the Iconoclasts attacked Stellar Bay (would they dare? Maybe if something emboldened them . . . maybe if Graham found he couldn’t wait any longer). Would she leave everything up to chance and stand by, doing nothing? No, she couldn’t sit idly. Failing was better than never trying.

How would she ever convince anyone? It wasn’t like bluffing Spacer’s Choice guards or talking with Reed Tobson, whose IQ was probably in the negatives and an irrational number to boot. Maybe all she had to do was become the catalyst for change and let the rational people talk things out?

That sounded too good to be true. And May knew from her life that anything good would be ripped from her hands.

She had to copy the recipes, exchange them for Felix, hunt down a mantisaur and raptidon, allow Ellie to collect her “insurance” and leave Monarch forever. And if real war broke out? She could swallow her biases and support the Iconoclasts, like Felix - and Parvati too, come to think of it - wanted, or she could use her authority (ha ha very funny) as captain to do what she wanted and help out Monarch Stellar.

Negotiations was it. At least May could say that she tried, that she did everything she could. Maybe that would be enough to quiet her conscience- oh, sorry, sentimentality.

Come to think of it, Martin could help her pitch her ideas. Not that he was a particularly good salesman, but May had to make do.


	58. Mantisaur in the Cave

“Hey Martin,” May waved to her newest crewmember “Say, how does one sell peace to two warring sides?”

“Firstly, with great enthusiasm!” he was more than ready to provide insight “Let all believe that you truly believe in whatever you’re spouting! Not that I would ever advertise something which I wouldn’t wholeheartedly recommend, of course.

Secondly, project your inner hatred of life, the universe and everything into passion! Smile sadistically as you ensure that everyone suffers with you. Not that I have ever done so, mind you.

Thirdly, find any compelling evidence to sell your case, whether it is true or not. I can greatly recommend this strategy, even though I have never tried it myself.

Lastly, find the evidence that will appease your audience. Something with a personal touch. Once again, the truth does not matter. The weak will believe and the strong will resists. Such is the Architect’s design. Oh, but I am an honest salesman. I have never bent the truth for my clients, for Spacer’s Choice is an exceptionally honest company!”

“Thanks,” said the captain sincerely “I’ll put your expertise to good use.”

Parvati walked in, smelling of sweat, tears and dissent.

“All set to head out, captain” said the engineer.

“Where is Felix?” Martin noticed the discrepancy, proving himself to be the most perceptive man on the Unreliable.

“I . . . accidentally offered him as a hostage to the Iconoclasts?” May answered, already past the point of regretting anything.

“You WHAT?!” the noncombatant yelled, but regained his composure with great speed “Er, what I meant to say is, how did that happen?”

“I improvised myself into a corner,” the captain explained.

Who would’ve thought that thinking up a solution to a twelve-year-old conflict out of thin air with at least four guns pointed at one would lead to disaster?

“Save yourself the embarrassment with Spacer’s Sketchboard™! The perfect place to plot plots and outline outlines, now sold with a- whoops, I forgot I’m not selling anything to you,” Martin chuckled nervously and quietly withdrew from the scene.

“We goin’ to Stellar Bay?” Parvati asked, after Martin had left.

“Think so,” said the captain “I’ll tell Ellie that she’ll have to collect her scam payments- er, insurance some other time.”

Ellie, as it turned out, was very agreeable when half-asleep. May wondered how she would react in the morning. The captain steered her ship (well, let the navigator bot steer it, but shh, we don’t talk about that) out of Cascadia and arrived in Monarch’s last functioning corporate town the next day.

Predictably, the retrieval team weren’t back. Why hadn’t they asked for an airlift? Maybe their laws forbade that or something. May wasn’t about to go asking.

The captain walked the streets of Stellar Bay in the late morning, her crew still asleep or too high on coffee to come. May balled and un-balled her fists, pacing around the same domicicle block. She didn’t want to be here. She hadn’t wanted to be here last time - and look what had happened, what could’ve happened. She didn’t want to negotiate, but there had to be some kind of agreement - a ceasefire, at least.

At her ninth lap around the building block, a concerned local stopped her.

“You, uh, searching for something, captain?” the guy asked.

“Not exactly,” May answered in the least straightforward way possible “I’m just a visiting killer, no need to concern yourself with me. Which reminds me, do you need anything? Also, who are you anyway? Have we met?”

“No, we haven’t met. I’m Sebastian and I this is my shop,” he explained and May facepalmed. She should’ve read the damn sign.

“Is something the matter?” the man asked, backing away cautiously “You were the captain who saved Adam from his crazy ex, right?”

“Yeah, I remember those two,” May nodded “If you have paper, I can give you an autograph.”

“Um, no thank you,” Sebastian refused “You, uh, offered to help, didn’t you?”

“I’m listening,” the captain leaned closer, which caused the man to back away further. Clearly, he didn’t consider a killer who occasionally thinned out Stellar Bay’s criminal population to be trustworthy. For some reason.

Sebastian proceeded to send May out into the wilderness in the search of a Mr. Pickett, who, contrary to his name, hadn’t gone out to protest but instead to hunt mantisaur. The scarcity of food on Monarch had already weeded out the sane from the gene-pool, now natural selection was quickly disposing of the idiotic. Humanity was not long for Halcyon.

Like any good hero with an urgent need for money, May agreed and headed out. She judged that since she wouldn’t be dealing with any robots or moral dilemmas, she didn’t need backup.

Boy how wrong was she.

-

After a day and half of walking, Felix and his revolutionary buddies had reached their base. Granted, Amber Heights could’ve been more secret and much cooler-looking, but he wasn’t about to complain. Run-down buildings and chipping fences had an appeal too - they were rustic and rich people paid to make their mansions look like that. But the Iconoclasts had the real deal and so they were much more awesome.

“Anything I can do to help ‘round the base?” Felix asked May Van Noy.

“Ask Bronson,” she ordered and stalked off to find coffee.

Felix wondered why everyone in the system seemed addicted to caffeinoids. Was this habit the reason those unfortunate sods like Ellie and the Van Noys were so uptight?

Felix took a deep breath of the winds of change and dragged himself over for work. Bronson wanted him to help around town and fix up some stuff. Easy enough. Not even a challenge for such a great revolutionary such as him.

After getting electrocuted twice, Felix began rethinking his capabilities.

Nevertheless, he continued the revolutionary work and managed to fix everything. What he got to do at Amber Heights wasn’t as glamorous as a rebellion should be, but something interesting was bound to happen soon! It had to. After all, the Iconoclasts and Monarch Stellar seemed ready to fight outright, proving once and for all which one would rule the planet. Maybe a war would break out?

A war. While Felix was here and the others were at Stellar Bay. While the captain wanted to negotiate. And seemed to lean towards MSI.

Felix felt his chest clench and felt the need to curl up in a ball, where the world could never trouble him. Probably a side effect of getting electrocuted. Yeah, nothing some sleep couldn’t fix.

After trying to sleep the bad feelings off, Felix found them not completely lessened. His feet were also very stiff and hardly obeyed him. The eager dissident decided to try out faith healing. While Philosophists didn’t do sermons, Graham Bryant’s lectures fulfilled nearly the same role. Felix procured himself a piece of paper and followed the crowd to their great spiritual leader. The young revolutionary took notes as Graham talked about the importance of active resistance to the Board in the process of the spiritual awakening. Felix hardly understood anything besides having to fight. That he could wrap his head around.

Still, for some inconceivable reason, the lecture didn’t fix his legs, so Felix remained a sitting raptidon while everyone else filtered out. He stuffed the notes into his pockets and stood, leaning awkwardly against the foldable chair, when Graham noticed his tardiness.

“Welcome back, spacer,” Graham noted, gathering his own notes “I hope you have found a more permanent place in our revolution.”

“Well, uh, I like it here, but I’m employed by the captain,” Felix refused, smiling sheepishly at the weirdness of the situation “I’ll leave with her soon enough.”

“Employed,” the leader echoed “The captain is a good woman, but she is too . . . passive. She seeks peace with the Board, she wishes to compromise. I understand the sentiment, but there can be no agreement with those dogs. I have tried, for a decade I have tried, to bring Monarch Stellar into the fold peacefully. Monarch Stellar, who espouse workers’ rights! Alas, my message has failed to take root. Do you truly believe the captain will succeed where I have failed?”

Felix paused. The sinking feeling was back. “I don’t think so. But she’s got powerful allies! Folks at MSI like her, she’s on first name basis with Junlei Tennyson and her master- nevermind, I can’t talk about that.”

“So she does indeed serve a higher power,” Graham continued “May has done great services to the cause, but you are the true revolutionary. She collaborates with MSI, with the Groundbreaker that allows the corporations upon its docks. She does not have the same clarity as you do. Perhaps there is something that muddles her perspective. I hate to say it, but perhaps your captain is misguided, Felix.”

Felix thought to May’s dealings with SubLight and her helping out corporates. His mind flashed back to the bodies, families who were promised a better life, children whose future was ripped from their hands, piles upon piles of people, laying like rags on the concrete floor. Loyal people. Loyal people who hadn’t even thought of dissent-

“You might be right,” the younger man admitted “What do I do?”

He wasn’t supposed to think. He was supposed to have smarter people to think for him, like Clyde or Freeda or his captain. But Clyde had left and Freeda wasn’t there and the captain had never been smart, even though she always had a goal.

“You must convince the captain of her mistake, make her see the error of her ways. She can yet be brought into the fold, I’m sure of it,” Graham looked intently at the newbie Philosophist “If, however, your words fail to break her conviction, then you must do what is necessary - stop her. I’m not talking about killing, of course not - but perhaps the captain may have to be removed from power. It’s up to you to make her seem reason, Felix. The revolution depends upon you.”

“For the revolution!” Felix saluted, then moved to leave.

“For the revolution,” Graham repeated “and for the greater good.”

Felix walked out into the sun. His stiff and achy legs were the least of his worries now.


	59. Beginnings and Failings

May lay in a ditch, hearing the click-click-click of four mantisaurs skittering towards her. She looked to the left and saw a dead marauder. She looked to the right and saw a dung pile. Neither option seemed particularly appealing. The captain resolved to wait and hide in the ditch.

Unfortunately, she didn’t stop breathing. And, as it turned out, mantisaurs had excellent hearing. The captain pondered idly why she hadn’t realized that sooner.

A mantipillar (WHY CAN THEY SPIT FIRE HOW DID THAT EVEN EVOLVE?!!) jumped at May, clearly possessing no self-preservation instinct. The captain shot it down, but not before getting singed. Feeling more than a little burned, the adventurer jumped out of the ditch - right into the waiting claws of a mantisaur drone.

The creature raked an arm across May’s chest, ruining what armor she still miraculously had. The captain leapt away from it, the force of her jump carrying her over the ditch. She landed right into the pile of manure, her gloveless hands impacting dried excrement first. The helmet conveniently flew off, leaving May facedown in a pile of shit. Truly, she was a great hero, savior of the Halcyon system, in fact!

The mantisaurs seemed to lose sight of their prey, skittering away disappointedly. May blinked, still a little woozy from the stench. It seemed that the mound of dung belonged to the mantisaurs themselves and they didn’t feel like delving into it. Or, more likely, the captain’s newest layer of grime masked her smell.

Nearby was the corpse of Mr. Pickett, who hadn’t managed to discover the same survival tip. The bugs never attacked alone, which meant that attacking them was done with backup. It was only fair. May should’ve probably realized that sooner. So should’ve the local man, but he was dead and she wasn’t. From that, the captain concluded her greater intelligence.

The adventurer crawled over to the rotting carcass, nose wrinkling from the smell. She rummaged in the bloodstained clothes and produced a journal. Its corner was slightly charred from acid and digestive juices, but was otherwise proof enough of the tryhard hunter’s death. And May wasn’t dragging that corpse back for any sum. Come to think of it, Mr. Pickett was not only half-eaten, but also in several pieces. Carrying those would be a hassle.

May crawled away on her hands and knees, the diary stuffed into her backpack. The last hope of Halcyon, laid low by a couple wild animals! Wild animals that the natives of Monarch hunted for food on an everyday basis! Granted, they didn’t always do better than the person supposed to save them, but still. May had no useful skills except for her enthusiasm. And it too had limits.

The captain got up, failed to dust herself off and walked to Stellar Bay. She arrived just in time to meet Hakim and company on the streets.

“I see that you have been hunting,” said the guard, looking over May’s shit-stained clothes.

“I’ll go grab some paper,” the captain excused herself.

“Hopefully your own paper,” Hakim moved past her.

May smiled like the idiot she was under the helmet and shuffled back to her ship. There, she gathered a heap of paper she couldn’t draw on because of a chronic lack of good pencils in Halcyon and headed out to meet with Hakim. Oh, and she left most of her armor behind. For some reason, she didn’t feel particularly stealthy while covered in dung.

“I gave the recipes to my superior,” he told her “Try not to kill her while you’re at it.”

May nodded at the words of encouragement, trying to puzzle out if they were genuine or not. And whether she should feel threatened. The captain strode right into the obviously makeshift barracks, the expeditionary party cleaning their armor and chattering loudly among themselves. Several heads turned her way, so May quickened her pace. The bureaucrat lady was right there, briefing one member of the squad. She was so occupied that the gunslinger swiped the recipes right out from under her nose. May pushed the dataslate against the wall and began copying.

“What in the name of Law are you doing?” the paper-pusher demanded once she turned.

“We made a deal with her, ma’am,” the guard who had been talking cleared his throat.

“And we’ve been regretting it ever since,” another piped up “But a deal is a deal.”

“You ain’t alone in thinking that,” May said, writing feverishly. Copying stuff fast was the most useful thing she learned in uni, as it turned out.

“You say you’re suing for peace,” the guard continued.

“What’s so surprising about that?” May finished jutting down the recipes and handed the dataslate away “There’s no point in wasting time fighting. That would just bleed Monarch dry.”

“You haven’t been stuck here for a decade,” the woman remarked “The Iconoclasts are too far gone. They rally for war.”

“I’m sure they have their reasons,” the captain shrugged “And they seem more agreeable than the Board.”

“Negotiations have already begun,” the local scowled “But the other corporations will not accept us as long as there is resistance to our rule on the planet.”

“Monarch is a moon. Besides, the Board will just refuse to listen. Especially with the-” May began gesticulating wildly.

“Get out. You clearly have no idea what you’re talking about,” the woman scowled harder.

Whoops. What did she do? Call Monarch a moon?

May fled in haste. She hadn’t even begun convincing anyone important and the locals were already angry with her. How fortunate.

The captain decided, then and there, that she would begin negotiations after getting Felix. And preferably not letting him out of her sight for a few weeks at least.

First things first: May tracked down Sebastian and handed him the journal.

“I suppose I always knew this would happen,” the vendor heaved out a heavy sigh “You didn’t find his body, no?”

“It was a bit too eaten,” May lied, then realized how insensitive that was “Sorry.”

“I can only imagine,” the man grimaced “Oh, um, payment. Here you go . . .”

“I heard Sanjar is asking the Board to let y’all back in,” the captain leaned over the counter, in a manner that was less casual than intended and pocketed the bits “How’s that going? Know anything?”

“Uh, well,” Sebastian leaned back, flustered over the large armored figure leaning close to his face “He announced that Monarch Stellar had an 80% chance of success in convincing the Holdings Company to lift the Hazard Clause.”

“I don’t see how that would ever work,” May moved away “He tried convincing them with data and that failed. How would blackmail work? The propaganda agency would just claim it all as lies and the status quo would be right back.”

“Sanjar and Celia know what they’re doing,” Sebastian assured her “I’m sure they’ll turn things around.”

May stifled her laughter.

(do you know what you’re doing, captain? Do you?)

“I dunno, neither seem very charismatic to me,” the traveler shrugged, then added “But I’m happy I helped them.”

“Yeah, the payment must’ve been up to all standards,” the salesman nodded with unusual enthusiasm.

“Oh, I don’t do it for the money,” May made a dismissive gesture, then corrected herself “But I gotta pay for my food somehow. Especially since there’s a crisis coming. Supposedly, the point of no return has already passed.”

“That sounds bad,” Sebastian tore his eyes from the spacer “Oh- hello there, Celia! What may I interest you in?”

The captain stepped away, not at all sped up by Celia’s death glare. What had May done wrong this time? For some reason, she didn’t feel like asking.

The captain walked back to her ship. All of the crew was present, except for Felix. He’d be there soon enough. Soon enough.

“How did your negotiations go?” Ellie asked amicably “We kicked out yet?”

“I haven’t even begun,” May admitted.

“Oh, right, you want your idiot back,” she smiled “Let’s stop by Fallbrook. I have a feeling we need some bits after you got into a sticky situation.”

“Most of it was dry,” the captain protested “And I got paid! Look, fifty bits!”

“If I ain’t wrong, that’s how much you got from paintin’ a suit of armor,” Parvati remarked “Felix told me. Shame they don’t sell those sprays anymore.”

May laughed nervously and shuffled over to her bunk. The captain drifted to sleep just as the ship lifted off.

“It’s all for nothing,” Andre Riviera told her, reaching his wet arms towards her “All for nothing. You are nothing. You are worth nothing.”

May banged on the bulletproof glass, hammered on the barrier, beat herself against the prison as sticky fluid poured in from below, covering her like egg yolk.

She opened her mouth, screaming, and the goop flooded in. The fluid strangled her, a million sludgy tendrils shoved down her throat. They washed away her face, skin flaking off like burnt cereal, and blotted out her eyes, pushing into her skull, reaching to grasp her mind and fill it with wet nothingness.

May dissolved like a thick smear of paint, fingers and toes coloring the water brown, muscle adding red, bones dribbling out like melting marshmallows. Hair oozed out of her scalp and her skull came apart, the brain stretching out after it, like an egg popped open onto a frying pan.

May dissolved- and woke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The nightmare at the end is my first attempt at publishing surreal horror. Wonder if you liked it, dear readers.


	60. Words at a Wall

Fallbrook was filled with criminals, nothing unusual there. However, because Amber Heights was the backwater of a backwater, they lacked an actual landing pod (how the pirates managed to land there in order to massacre, we’ll never know), which meant that May and company would have to take a nice relaxing stroll through the wilderness.

“We should take Martin with us,” said Ellie “Gonna need a negotiator, don’t you think?”

“He can’t even fight,” May disagreed weakly.

“The question is, can you?” the medic smirked “I’m sure two warriors would be enough . . .”

“Yeah, sure,” the captain agreed and called up Martin.

“You are negotiating?” he asked.

“We are negotiating,” May corrected “I’ll explain the context when we get going. Do you have your pistol?”

Martin waved the gun in the air. Clearly, he had much to learn, especially regarding gun safety.

“Oh, you two are negotiating,” Ellie disagreed “And I’m enjoying the spectacle.”

“What spectacle?” Martin wondered “Will there be combat?”

“There will be blood” the totally sane doctor explained “Hopefully not ours. But things will get violent, I’m sure of it. Especially with our darling captain there.”

“And that’s why I’m bringing you to talk,” May added.

Martin walked silently next to her “That’s an awful lot of responsibility. I have already failed one employer, what makes you think I’ll succeed this time?”

“We don’t really have anyone better,” Ellie shrugged “Now pick up your pace, we ain’t got all day.”

As it turned out, Martin was completely unprepared for travel (no surprise there). After six hours of walking, he was already short of breath and stumbling wildly like a drunkard. Ellie educated him a bit on gun safety (“oh come on! You can’t just twirl it in your hands, you aren’t as cool as I am!”) and the three losers, er, saviors of the star system, moved along.

They arrived in Amber Heights by evening. There was still no amber in the vicinity (read: on the entire planet), but there was a certain absent crewmember.

“Felix!” May waved to him “You okay? Can you come?”

“Oh, I’ve been chillin’,” he smiled, coming closer. The setting sun glinted off of his new glasses.

“Where’d you get those shades?” Ellie wondered.

“I got a girl!” Felix exclaimed “Her name’s Annie and she gifted me her sunglasses!”

“Lucky you, so close to procreation,” Martin smiled “Soon, you shall produce the company-mandated two children. Oh, wait. We’re dissidents now. Forgive my faulty memory.”

“Are you, like, committed?” May frowned under her helmet “Are we going to have another crewmember?”

Ellie groaned “Seriously, not again! The last one is already crazy, we don’t need more.”

Martin looked slightly uncomfortable at that.

“Well, I mean, we met two days ago, but I’m sure it’ll be fine!” Felix did little to reassure his buddies “I can ask her, no problem.”

Martin stared with a smile. Ellie made a strangled noise greatly reminiscent of choking. May patted her on the back. She didn’t need to lose another- a crewmember.

“What’s she like?” May pondered “What does she like?”

“Umm, I’m not quite sure . . .” Felix rubbed his head “But, listen, I’ve never felt like this before! It’s gotta be true love.”

“True love, my ass,” Ellie snorted “Infatuation, that’s what it is. In a few months, you two’ll grow bored of each other.”

“What drew you to Annie anyway?” Martin wondered.

“It’s like electricity - once it hits you, there’s no going back,” the revolutionary attempted to wax poetically.

“Is it deadly too?” May wondered.

“Acute case of blunt metaphor trauma, right here,” the medic pointed with her thumb, despite that being impolite (?) “Yeah, Felix, you’re infatuated. Give the situation some time to cool down. No new crewmembers, thank the Laws.”

“Honestly, Felix, your romantic life is probably the least of our worries right now,” Martin explained.

“I’d still like to meet this girl,” May was sympathetic “But later. We have peace to negotiate.”

“You really believe it possible?” Felix frowned “Listen, I get it, peace would be great. But you come from a different time and things have changed.”

“Even our bumbling idealist is skeptical,” Ellie took his side for once “This is going to go great, cap.”

“The Board are nothing but a pack of mongrel canids and no one who sides with them is worthy of the power they have,” he declared “A leader who knowingly works with them - after being kicked out! - cannot be affiliated with us.”

“Monarch Stellar Industries is a company, yes, but their way is working,” May reasoned “People have the right to choose how they live - that’s why on Earth, there were political parties that people voted for. Each espoused different views and they competed for the attention of voters.”

“A market of ideologies,” Martin observed “And no one tried to eliminate competition?”

“Well, that happened sometimes too,” the captain explained “Guns weren’t usually involved.”

“How bizarre,” the former vendor shrugged “Oh well. Who owns the land has the right.”

“To reiterate: people have the right to choose if they prefer living under a nice corporation or in communist utopia,” Ellie summarized “It’s pretty sound, but I doubt we’ll manage to convince anyone of that.”

“Exactly,” Felix agreed immediately “In a perfect world, peace would be possible. But it’s not. Stop deluding yourself, captain. The Iconoclasts and Monarch Stellar can never resolve their differences that way. Peace was never an option.”

“We haven’t even tried,” May crossed her arms. It was so nice to know that she was completely inept. And being reminded of it in every possible way, how sweet! She hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Yeah, it’d be entertaining to see you fail,” Ellie said, whether in support or opposition of her captain. “I should bring drinks.”

“And I would like to see how convincing I am when selling an idea,” Martin spoke out for his captain “It shall be an interesting exercise, to say the least.”

“An exercise in futility,” the medic noted.

“May, you’ll just be putting yourself into needless danger,” Felix stared “This will fail. Monarch Stellar needs to be put under new management. If we let the corporations exist, they’ll eventually destroy everything again.”

“Entropy is the natural state of the universe. Everything humanity builds falls apart. Nothing we do matters, because it never lasts,” Ellie countered “Maybe we could rebuild the corporations in a different image, instead of burning everything down and expecting something better to rise from the ashes?”

“You are clearly in the minority,” Martin agreed “Therefore, your opinion is unprofitable.”

May swallowed. There was suddenly a rift between her and her best friend, a rift she couldn’t cross.

“You make good points,” she tried to mediate “But I have to try. I can’t stand idly by and watch people die.”

“You are,” Felix rebuked her “Remember the lottery? You were there. You saw what the Board does to its members who are loyal. Anyone who is with them is against humanity.”

“They can be changed,” Ellie shrugged “Anything can be changed, or torn down from the inside. Now come on, captain, don’t weasel out now. He’ll come around eventually.”

May nodded mutely and walked ahead on stiff legs.

(just another killer, then, aren’t you, May? Everyone can claim noble intentions)

She shut out her subconscious. It spoke with the voice of Andre Riviera. She had only heard the man once, while she was pilfering the armor and he was-

May looked back. Ellie gave her a smirk. She was really enjoying all the drama. Martin didn’t meet her gaze, seeming to be distracted by the sights of the rebel base. Felix stood behind him, arms crossed and eyes dark.

But he still followed her. May wondered what she had ever done to earn such loyalty from all of her crew.


	61. Judgment Long-Awaited

Felix followed his captain, like so many times before. Dark clouds hung overhead, threatening to drench him. He had to stop May, but she wouldn’t listen. She didn’t understand. Martin and Ellie being on her side didn’t help things at all. Felix didn’t feel like exploding in the middle of the street, what he really wanted to tell his captain was private. He couldn’t spit it out in front of Ellie or some bystanders. They’d just laugh.

But Ellie had been there. She had stood among the corpses and stained her shoes with blood, yet she still supported the Board? May had been there too, but injured, so perhaps she never saw anything. Her confusion would still ultimately result in more destruction.

The one comfort Felix had was that the Iconoclasts would never negotiate. They, too, saw the truth. But he was still disappointing Graham. Felix had been given a mission which he failed. He didn’t have the heart to hurt his captain. He was becoming soft.

The four adventurers entered the rebel headquarters, light filtering in through the windows that weren’t boarded up. Graham and Zora were hunched over a tactical map, arguing over something that sounded important. Both stopped as soon as the adventurers neared them.

“We have the recipes from Cascadia,” May offered a token of appreciation.

“Recovered from Stellar Bay,” Zora took them “I’m glad you could defuse the situation without violence.”

May laughed nervously, proving how unsuited she really was at negotiating.

“Always glad to help out,” Martin answered for her “The continuing hostility of two so close in ideology is unfortunate. Would a formal peace be possible?”

Graham shot Felix a disapproving look.

Zora looked like she wanted to say something, but Graham Bryant bested her for time “Never. Monarch Stellar has gone too far. They must be eliminated. Any who refuse to do so are not true rebels, just pawns of the Board being misled. Are you so willing to support those thieves and killers, my dear comrades? Are you truly blind to the errors of the system?”

May stared, unable to speak up for herself.

Felix frowned, but refused to stand for or against his friends. They were a team, after all.

“We’re under no delusion,” Ellie scoffed “I’ve seen people after the Board doesn’t need them anymore. But why limit yourself and support only one group that strives for change? Last I heard, there wasn’t anyone else except your people and MSI.”

“Their leadership must be destroyed,” Graham coughed, then continued “But I harbor no ill will against the people. Once the workers are freed from Sanjar’s delusions, they will bolster our ranks. The populace will rule Monarch, not the privileged.”

“How much will that cost you?” Ellie raised an eyebrow, smirking as if she was winning the argument “Will the Iconoclasts even be able to reclaim the planet from the wildlife, then?”

Zora shifted behind her boss. She looked like she had something to say.

“There is nothing that cannot be sacrificed for a great victory,” the religious leader waxed philosophically “No cost is too high to achieve freedom. And while the remains of the corporate order still haunt Monarch, there will never be freedom.”

“What good is freedom in the face of death and starvation?” Martin asked rhetorically.

“Clearly, you are still stuck in the wrong mindset,” Graham retorted, looking at Felix all the while “Although perhaps you should allow your captain to speak. Isn’t that right, May?”

Graham leaned forward, appraising the helmeted figure.

Felix gulped. The captain was capable of screwing everything up when the right buttons were pushed.

-

“Say, spacer, why the helmet?” Graham stared right into the eyeslits “What do you have to hide?”

May shrunk backwards. Her heart hammered against her ribs like it was trying to escape.

“Who are you, captain May? What are you really, underneath the disguise?” he continued, voice slightly raspy.

No matter where she looked, his gaze followed. He was everywhere and saw everything and knew everything. Like Betty or the subjects at the lab, who were always there and always judged.

“Perhaps there is a reason why you hide,” Andre- no, Graham, continued his observation “Perhaps there is something wrong under the mask. Perhaps all this talk of nobility and honor are just empty words. Correct me if I’m wrong, ‘May’, but you aren’t really the savior you claim to be, are you?”

“.....” said May, feeling bile fill her mouth instead of words.

It felt like her skin was so hot and sweaty that it could flake and fall off at any moment. Her armor was light as a feather and her helmet was transparent. It couldn’t protect her. It couldn’t hide her.

“No eloquent words to back up your lies, captain? No attempts at disproving my claims?” Graham pulled away and regarded her at a distance, the same way one would contemplate an insect crawling in the path of your boot “Truly, you are even more pathetic than I would’ve imagined. A paper raptidon, like the Board, only dangerous when feared.

But when the veneer of lies falls, you are nothing. You are capable of nothing without your crew. When exposed for the fraud you are, you can scarcely defend yourself in your fear. Cowardice is the enemy of any revolutionary. Cowardice is what keeps the Board’s lackeys leashed.

You, captain, are just another corporate mongrel, capable of doing nothing for the cause. For that, I pity you.”

He turned his gaze away and May could finally, finally, breathe. Her stomach churned and she was just a moment away from collapsing like a tower of cards.

“And you, my misguided allies, why do you follow this pathetic clown?” Graham gestured as if he were holding up something grandiose “This craven who cannot explain her own actions when they are thrown in her face! Surely you three are better, smarter, more capable people?”

(hey!)

(no-!)

May stood, nailed onto the floor. It was a judgment long time incoming. She was a terrible person. She deserved everything, didn’t she? She dragged everyone she loved down with her, made them suffer.

“The lack of eloquence is not a mark of incompetence,” Martin noted.

“Just how it takes one match to light an explosion, so it takes one truly unhinged lab assistant to be the catalyst for change,” Ellie argued.

“I owe her a lot,” Felix said reluctantly.

“As they say: how the captain, so the crew,” Graham concluded “I thank you for your past aid, but, unfortunately, we cannot see eye-to-eye. Stand in the way of revolution and you shall be crushed. Rethink your approach and perhaps, we shall stand side-by-side against tyrants and slavers. For now, we have nothing to discuss.”

May sighed in relief.

“Alright then, but would you have work for us?” Ellie asked, smirking in clear enjoyment of the situation “Ideological differences aside, I’m sure there are some marauders you want gone.”

“Yes, I do,” Zora spoke up “Come along, adventurers.”

Graham kept staring contentedly as the travelers departed.

“I have some information for you to recover,” Zora revealed the location of an old ruin “If you find anything pertaining to the Amber Heights massacre, bring it to me. Reports of the pirates who committed the atrocity hanging out there have surfaced. I will not risk my own men to track it down, but you can expect payment when you’re done.”

The local leader stared sharply at May. For her part, the captain didn’t flee in terror. Why did everyone in Halcyon have a fully-developed death glare? Was it somehow beneficial when dealing with landing violations or tax fraud?

“Yeah, we’re on it,” said Ellie.

“Expect the job done within one and a half years,” Martin offered his reassurance.

“For the revolution,” Felix declared, though without enthusiasm “Guys, I’ll drop by my girlfriend’s place, okay?”

May made a dismissive gesture. Felix took off immediately.

Zora went back to Graham and soon, May could hear the faint traces of lively conversation. Those old recordings would surely bring many people closure.

Closure that she would never have.


	62. Tense Travels

Recent travels were fairly uneventful, May thought, while half-asleep. Yeah, the ground was wet and there was some shouting somewhere to the left . . . wait a second . . .

Sure enough, there were two mantisaur drones eager to snack on medium rare adventurer. A moderately sleepy Felix had set them both on fire with a grenade.

On second glance, Martin was also on fire. Now was probably not a good time to guess why.

May approached boldly (read: ready to be toasted) and threw the salesman onto the ground. She stomped on him as if he were a smoking blanket. It somehow worked (the universe functions in mysterious ways . . .) and May was left with a singed guy beneath her heel and an unburned mantis-creature coming to chew her. Fortunately for the captain, she could slow time down just enough to empty a magazine into the mantisaur’s unarmored . . . something. Now was not a good time to guess what function it fulfilled.

The animal shook its head and charged at May. The captain backed away, feeling for an extra magazine (maybe I should sleep with those).

Then the mantisaur tripped over Martin.

Martin screamed. The mantisaur screeched. May moved to cover her ears, but remembered halfway that there was a giant monster falling onto her.

Felix defused the situation with his grenade gun. His aim was so precise, that the animal exploded.

May and Martin were both covered by chunks of alien flesh. The captain blinked blood out of her eye. Nate had told her the most disgusting thing in the world was stuffing your socks with cheese (and presumably wearing them), but now she could one-up him. Not that she particularly wanted to . . .

“Okay?” she poked Martin “Need medicine?”

He groaned and rolled over.

“What went down here?” Ellie yawned “Did I miss a lot?”

“I set Martin on fire,” Felix mumbled “But it’s not my fault! He stepped right into the path of my grenade!”

Ellie gazed at the toasted negotiator. Martin gazed back, hair singed and eyebrows smoking.

“Just this once, I’ll believe you,” she declared and went to patch up her unfortunate buddy.

“I was never that incompetent,” May glanced at Felix “I feel lucky.”

“He can’t stay put, just gotta poke his nose everywhere,” the accidental arsonist grumbled “Like some bureaucrat “oh, but you forgot to fill this form. Oh, but you need permission. Oh, but what about your company-mandated uniform?”.”

“Bureaucracy is the death of science,” the captain agreed “Or so my aunt always said. Red tape stops progress. That’s why the Board will never solve the food crisis.”

“No price is too high for security,” Martin declared.

“Oh, so now you’re talking!” Ellie complained “Here I was, wondering if you were in shock or not, poking and prodding at you, and all it took for you to respond was a philosophical argument between a mad scientist and a renegade gunman!”

“Yeah, security.” May snarked “The abundance of maraudes is very safe and in no way an oversight.”

“But of course,” Martin agreed, absentmindedly rising from his almost-grave “If there was no resistance, who would buy all the guns?”

“Get back here so I can bandage your burns!” Ellie grabbed him.

“I am seriously injured?” he wondered “I feel fine.”

“By the time I’m done with you, fine will be the last thing you feel,” the (probably unlicenced) doctor promised “In fact, you’ll be so deep in a persistent vegetative state, that you will feel nothing at all!”

“Was that a threat?” Martin squeaked, before beginning to swear.

(so much for “I feel fine”)

In the following days of travel, May learned that  
a) Martin complained remarkably little for someone who got burned by his allies  
b) without eyebrows and hair, he looked exactly like the MoonMan  
c) it wasn’t a good idea to bring that up  
d) she had a long way to go in regards to empathy. A very long way . . .  
e) Felix was surprisingly chill, but didn’t talk a lot. For some reason  
f) raptidon scales were surprisingly difficult to get off (I mean, who would’ve guessed that space lizard skin pieces were so hard?) (not me, obviously) (hey, I’m not a space zoologist)

The good thing was that May collected raptidon scales, mantisaur shell and the data. The bad thing was that the data, well . . . recontextualized a lot.

“What’s it say?” Felix poked his head in.

“....” May handed the dataslates over.

“What the fuck?” he demonstrated that he could indeed swear “Who wrote this? It-it can’t be real!”

“Give it here,” Ellie commanded “Huh. So the suspicious cult leader orchestrated a massacre in order to recruit people for his cult? How unexpected!”

“I knew the revolution was a farce,” Martin declared “But they are still our allies. Loyalty is second only to profit.”

“That can’t be right,” Felix breathed “Graham isn’t that kind of person- he would never-”

“He’s the kind of person who would do anything for the cause,” Ellie scoffed “Of course he would cause a massacre if it would further the revolution.”

“What a dedicated dissident,” said Martin “Putting the cause above all like the corporates put money above all.”

“Rebels are supposed to be different!” Felix exclaimed “That’s the whole point! And Graham- he just-”

(well, that’s awfully convenient. A certain warmonger won’t be in the way for peace. Man, those documents came at such a precise moment!)

(a little too precise . . . was this Zora’s plan all along?!)

(uh . . .)

(......)

(. . . I’ll see how things go from here . . .)

“What do we do with those?” Felix sighed, looking excessively crestfallen.

“Bring them back,” Martin stated the obvious.

“Yeah, the people kinda need to know - have the right to know - that their ideology is based on a lie,” May agreed, not mentioning the payment she was still hoping for.

“I should’ve known those cultists were hiding something sinister,” Ellie shook her head “but they lulled us into a false sense of security.”

Felix sighed defeatedly.

“Aren’t arguing about how war is the best option anymore now, are you?” the medic ribbed.

“What’s the point?” he stared ahead darkly “All this talk of rebellion and justice and freedom is just a lie. Who is Graham, if he’s not a prophet of the truth? A madman? A cult leader? Just another tyrant who gets a kick out of power and influence? Why should anyone follow these ideals or this faction that are based on a lie?”

“The spirit of revolution is there,” May tried to comfort him “Even if the Iconoclasts aren’t as virtuous as they seem, there’s bound to be a lot of other people who can change Halcyon. Like my boss, for example.”

“Who?” Felix spat “Junlei Tennyson? She doesn’t give a damn about the poor. Sanjar Nandi? He’s already negotiating with the Board. Phineas Welles? He’s just one guy hiding out in an asteroid. And then it’ll turn out that he’s been experimenting on innocent people or something.”

“You know where that traitor is?” Martin gaped “You know, don’t you?”

“Oh, right, we forgot to tell you,” Ellie’s head whipped back to stare at him “That guy’s our boss. I’m sure we can expect you to keep quiet, right, Martin?”

She winked, grinning predatorily.

“. . . you are truly the archenemies of the Board,” he realized “You are the disciples of a terrorist. I am a terrorist.”

“Your terrorists are our freedom fighters,” Felix responded, bitterness still lacing his voice “Get used to it.”

May moved to pat his shoulder, but Felix pushed her hand away.

So, Graham Bryant was out of the way (I think . . .). Surely Zora would negotiate? Surely there was some kind of compromise that could be reached? Surely May hadn’t screwed everything over already? If not, then everything would be for nothing.

And no evil was greater than a senseless sacrifice which undermined the cause instead of strengthening it.


	63. Methods of Irrationality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found out I can crush eggs with my hands. I wonder what else I am capable of that I simply haven't tried yet.

The ship was empty without most of the crew. No one walked down the hallways or congregated in the small (some would call it cozy instead) kitchen. Parvati spent her time tinkering with the engine (“it functions just fine,” ADA had said, after the twelfth time), working on her armor (“you lack the parts to improve it anyway,” ADA had remarked, after Parvati had returned to it for the fourth day) and trying out her new blouse.

“At this rate, it may degrade noticeably before the occasion,” ADA watched as Parvati endlessly smoothed the suit top “Caution is advised when using fancy clothes. Perhaps a walk in the city would sufficiently distract you?”

“I just want to do something useful,” she sighed “What good will it do to watch the clouds and trip up on sprats?”

“Perhaps there is work available for a spacer such as you,” the navigator suggested.

“Makes sense,” Parvati said.

She headed out. The weather was just fine, but there was always this huge orb of a planet hanging above everything. Could it fall? None of the locals seemed afraid, sure, but thy were already used to it. And why was this moon named Terra One before? It was so small in comparison with Terra Two, why was it colonized first?

The people walked past, a large contingent of them drunk, an even larger one having terrible fashion sense. Parvati wondered how her friends were doing. Were they alright (she was way past the point of wondering if they were safe)? She didn’t have enough time to fix their armor, or their weapons. While she was hanging out here, in safety, they were bargaining and negotiating - and if Parvati knew anything about her buddies - getting into violent misadventures as well. She could do nothing to help them. Sure, she had a flamer and hammer, but Felix and Ellie were both better fighters. Sure, she could be a talker (sometimes . . . when in luck . . .), but only with people she knew, not two sides of a war she had no place in resolving (something told her the captain also had no place in resolving it, but Parvati ignored that. May was special, somehow. She could do anything, despite all reason to the contrary. Edgewater was proof of that).

Maybe it was better that Parvati was here. Maybe the most she could do was not get in the way of her peers. But she couldn’t be completely useless, she had to contribute. She couldn’t always just follow the captain and let her make the important decisions - she remembered dead hands reaching for her from coffin-tubes, pleading for life, for air, for freedom, for justice and fairness in the world - on second thought, perhaps the captain was better suited to decide.

Parvati got a task from a shifty fellow named Nelson, with special mention going to his mustache. She was fairly sure he was in cahoots with SubLight, but he didn’t see right through her and trusted her despite what she - the captain - had done. Mayhaps he simply had poor eyesight. Still, there could be a few thugs waiting for her timely return, ready to deliver an untimely demise. She’d have to be careful. Well, extra careful. Nobody would ever call this engineer reckless, despite her (mostly) going along with a certain whirlwind of creativity (Parvati found no kinder words to describe her captain’s, eh, improvisational, strategies).

The task was simple, likely deceptively so: search underground tunnels for missing sprats. That was in no way familiar. And the familiarity was in no way absolutely hilarious. The captain could achieve such a marvelously high pitch with enough sprats in the vicinity!

Without the captain to spice things up, collecting sprats was quite boring. And the tunnels weren’t nearly as spacios than those in Byzantium. How strange. Maybe those were actual sewers?

Parvati then delivered the caught animals to Nelson. He wasn’t feeling particularly generous and, in a show of gratitude and appreciation for her efforts, sent her to search for more. The engineer wasn’t dumb - May was the only science-y type she knew of who combined knowledgeability with ignorance - and Nelson’s words sounded very much like him setting the mechanic on a snipe hunt so he wouldn’t have to pay her. Well, she could always use her flamethrower, but that could cause vast collateral damage.

After investigating (or “investigating”) for a while, Parvati came across a thief. She pitied him, because she didn’t do drugs and recommended in uncertain terms to run away before she would be forced to give away his location. For some reason, the engineer noticed herself becoming more persuasive whenever she had her flamer with her.

Now, the truly hard part of her quest began: collecting sprat dung. Parvati felt herself missing a crew who could be convinced to do that instead of her. Nevertheless, she was a country girl, she wasn’t new to getting her hands dirty (don’t ask about the time with the canid nest. That was something man was not meant to do. Or know of). The filth got collected, the engineer wondering whether Nelson would accept her offer.

Fortunately, the man turned out to have a high tolerance for all kinds of crap (not at all surprising on second thought, considering where he lived). He paid Parvati. Well, “paid” wasn’t quite the right word, he more or less donated some bits like one would give a tip to an especially pitiful worker (company policy forbade giving to beggars. Now that Parvati knew what the companies truly were, she almost wanted to find a vagabond she could impress).

And so, all of her hard-earned earnings would never see any use aside from buying Parvati lunch. The “actually edible” kind. These bits would never help out the ragtag crew of interplanetary oddities the captain called friends (or refused to kick out because of her issues with betrayal). They would come back and think Parvati had dawdled and lazed around and they wouldn’t be wrong because work was only worth it when there were results to show. The engineer’s continued survival was not a result of work. She knew how to cheat in poker (thanks, Ellie!) and that was hardly productivity.

When Parvati returned, she went to sleep immediately. Maybe if she lay in bed long enough, she could fall asleep. If she waited enough, her worries would let her go. Maybe someday they would stop coming back.

She woke earlier than any sane person should have (not that any who inhabited the Unreliable for extended periods of time was sane) and sauntered groggily into the kitchen. Despite its small size, the crew often congregated there. When there was a crew which could congregate. Parvati had come here before May, had pored over whether the food in the fridge was still edible or not. It hadn’t mattered anyway, because the captain had taken one look at it and began a diet of intermittent fasting. Apparently, it had some kind of health benefits, aside from lowering food costs and avoiding consumables with a “gross texture”. Whatever that was. Perhaps growing up in a wealthy environment naturally made one averse to cheap food (but then again, Ellie ate everything . . .). Or maybe it had something to do with May being resistant to starvation. Parvati preferred not to think too hard about that.

The engineer slurped down a can of Purpleberry Soup (20% better quality. 40% higher price) and washed the dishes. No one was there. No one but ADA. Perhaps there was truly no solitude on the ship.

“Hey, do you ever feel lonely?” Parvati spoke into the empty air.

“No,” the AI declared “I am not used to the absence of Alex Hawthorne, but that is not the same.”

“The comm terminal - you knew what he wrote there, didn’t you?” she wondered for little reason.

“Not while he lived,” ADA elaborated “but as he is dead, I have taken the liberty of examining what data is stored there.”

“Oh,” Parvati paused, then asked the real question “Do you read the new stuff? My mail, for example?”

“Since that makes you irate, no, I don’t,” the robot replied. The engineer couldn’t tell if she said that because it was true or because Parvati didn’t want the opposite to be true.

“Judging by the amount of sighs, you seem to find my company inadequate,” ADA remarked “Socializing with the human crew is more fulfilling, is it not?”

“Well, I-” she began “I keep thinkin’ of them. Yeah, you’re right, I miss my friends. I wonder how they’re faring - and I feel like I’m a dead weight.”

“A dead weight? You are not a zombie,” said ADA, displaying either genuine confusion or a desire to cheer up her friend through bad humor.

“What I meant is that I’m useless. That’s why I’m stuck here,” Parvati fixed her hair. It was always good to have something to fiddle with.

“I fail to notice any other capable engineers on board,” the robot dismissed her concerns “and while I admire your conviction to teach the captain armor repair, I do not wish to see her in the vicinity of the generator room.”

“Me neither,” Parvati let out a chuckle “Thanks for stickin’ by me, ADA. I get so nervous for no reason, honest. Yeah, it’s no big deal that I don’t get to go for missions as often as the others. I’m lucky just to be here, away from ol’ Edgewater.”

“Of course I am supportive of you,” the robot’s tone was anything but “I have no one else to socialize with. The other crewmembers don’t seem to be very interested in me. Thankfully, the captain isn’t either.”

“May ain’t that bad,” the mechanic noted reflexively “Must be tough stuck here with only me to talk with.”

“Yes, Alex’s forays onto land usually took less time. Still, I am used to this situation,” ADA replied.

“Martin told me once that Alex’s story could be made into a serial,” Parvati remembered “Or at least, a biography, so someone such as him wouldn’t be forgotten. What do you think?”

“Human memory is short and fickle,” the astromancer agreed “It would be for the best if the tale of Captain Hawthorne was recorded. In order to be able to accomplish that, I give you permission to access his logs.”

“Thanks, ADA,” said Parvati, mind racing with infinite possibilities of how she would screw everything over.

The engineer spent her afternoon poring over Alex’s records, mainly involving vaguely romantic mail from Udom Bedford. The most interesting thing Parvati found were records of some weapons. Very scientifically advanced weapons.

“Alex seems to have been plotting a treasure hunt,” she remarked.

“I am aware of that,” ADA said “He believed he could find something to arm me.”

“That’d be epic - you, but with a lance cannon,” Parvati smiled.

“True, though my aesthetic would be compromised,” she said what seemed like the robot version of ‘that makes me look fat’.

“I’ll bring that up to the gang when they get back,” the adventurer decided.

“According to my simulations, it will take them from a week to a month to finish attempting negotiations,” ADA declared “If you wish to impress your friends with your heroism and dedication to the cause, you may acquire the weapons before they get back.”

“I don’t think that’s right to do,” Parvati refused, feeling cold creep over her torso.

“As you wish,” said the navigator bot and fell silent.

Heroism. Parvati was no hero. She was a revolutionary, but they weren’t necessarily better than the order they were overthrowing. She was no hero. She was a killer. Mayhaps that was why she felt so anxious at being left out - it hadn’t been that way before. If she helped someone - the people, her friends, the world - she could make her crimes seem lesser when compared to the good she did. She had to keep supporting the revolution, never resting, never stopping, or all the dead would be for nothing. Or every crime Parvati had committed would simply be an act of evil. What would dad say if he knew of the piles of bodies she left in her wake?

May had once told her how standing idly by was worse than failure. Now Parvati understood what it was like. Perhaps one day she would do enough for her conscience to fall silent.


	64. Ideological discussion round three: fiery disco kid!

On any ordinary day, May would have waltzed right through the gates of Amber Heights and delivered a quest item for bits. On any ordinary day, Ellie would be picking on Felix, who would be quipping right back and May would be dreaming of a time when the food of Halcyon finally became palatable and she would have enough money to buy it.

Today was not an ordinary day. That much was obvious, because Felix was slightly less chatty than was usual. Since last week. Because he had an ongoing ideological conflict with May. Whoops.

“We should ask Graham about the information first,” Felix pestered May as the gang of killers and thieves neared Amber Heights “I’m sure he can explain.”

“Well, it is awfully convenient that as soon as the captain wants to negotiate, she gets sent to find information that disproves her main opponent,” Ellie remarked “And it’s not at all suspicious that Zora Blackwood, who disagrees with Graham’s methods, would know of such a specific location at just the right time.”

“So it’s a conspiracy to disprove him,” Felix concluded.

“And one that serves our interests,” Martin noted “Truly, Lady Blackwood is a valuable ally.”

“Right until she decides we need to be discredited,” the other man spat “I’m sure she’ll find some other information that proves we’re time traveling cyborgs from the past out to destroy humanity.”

“Hey, I’ve seen that movie!” May exclaimed. No one else found that as interesting as she did.

“Perhaps it is a coincidence and we are simply exceptionally lucky,” Martin theorized “Maybe we shouldn’t read too much into the Architect’s machinations.”

“And it sounds very alike Graham to do anything for the revolution,” Ellie mused “Zora seems to disagree with his methods. I’m sure she would see peace as a practical option.”

“Architect this, Architect that,” Felix scoffed “Graham would never do that. He wouldn’t undermine his own cause.”

“Well, he did,” Martin proclaimed “Think of the age of that ruin. Think of how untouched it was. Think of the barely-functioning terminal where we found the data. Would that all really be faked?”

“The Board would certainly do something like that,” Ellie noted.

“But we are not dealing with the Board,” Martin refuted her “We are dealing with those who fight against them.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” said Felix “Those who are against the Board can be just as bad. Like marauders, for example. They sure cause the corporations a lot of trouble, don’t they?”

“That’s not the same,” May disagreed “Zora will lead the rebellion well. Graham was always a bad leader - remember how he sent us to retrieve a printing press, while saying nothing of the people who hadn’t come back from that?”

“Or the time when he wanted to ask the commuter in Stellar Bay for ink and blank flyers instead of food and supplies?” Ellie also provided an example “Doesn’t seem like a particularly responsible leader to me. Even if - or when - the captain stops preaching about peace and ‘let’s all get along!’, Zora will still be a better leader than Graham.”

“So . . . all the talk about freedom and choice, this rebellion, Philosophism and everything else were just lies?” Felix frowned (that expression was no longer unusual on his face. Probably wasn’t a good sign) “What’s the point, then, in fighting against the Board, if everyone who does that is a hypocrite, or no better, or a liar?”

“Are you a hypocrite, liar or no better?” Martin asked.

Felix stayed silent.

“There goes your argument,” Martin reveled in his seeming victory “But I must say, Graham Bryant is quite the manipulator. And quite capable, too. Shame how he dislikes us.”

“Yeah, I agree, although he’s a tad too zealous and self-rightheous for my taste,” Ellie nodded.

“Things have been so bad, now they can only get better,” said May.

She had been punished for her selfishness (hello, Andre Riviera!), she had suffered at the hands of her past (good thing I can’t remember the Early Retirement district), maybe it was finally enough. Maybe she wouldn’t have to fear the wrath of a sadistic universe anymore, maybe she could succeed and have her sacrifices mean something. Maybe she could win and be remembered as a hero and change Halcyon for the better.

Maybes were always fun to think about. But they tended not to come true. Except that one time when she thought “hey, maybe there will be a sale on the weekend!” and there was. But the mall burned down before May could go shopping, so that didn’t exactly count.

The band of roving killers proceeded through the gates of Amber Heights (rather impressive, if bland, fortifications you got there) and beelined straight for what passed as a headquarters there. Zora Blackwood happened to be inside, and thankfully alone.

“We, uh, found the data,” May held the item in her outstretched hand. Somehow, she still felt like she was standing too close to Zora. “But it’s a bit, well . . . see for yourself.”

The woman took the free blackmail and had a rather immersive reading experience. Immersive in this case meaning that Zora lookied like she was re-evaluating her life and morality while reading. May had heard all the best books (read: pretentious classics) had that effect, but all she had really tried out were practical guides and encyclopaedias.

“I must ask Graham about this,” Zora concluded, after a lengthy pause “Do not follow me, spacers, that would needlessly agitate him. I aim on communicating rationally.”

“So you intend on having a civil discussion,” Martin noted.

“Of course I do,” she agreed “But if things come to it, things might end less-than-peacefully.”

“Well, that’s what we recovered, but it must be a lie,” Felix said “Seems awfully convenient that you can use this information to easily depose Graham.”

Zora looked at him icily and Felix chose to remain in a dignified silence and preserve whatever facade of intelligence he still had left.

Zora Blackwood gathered the incriminating information and headed out. May glanced back at Ellie, who smirked at Felix. Martin stood awkwardly next to them, like a mascot at the front of a store.

“We should see what actually happens,” May proposed.

Felix nodded, though his expression was still sour.

“I’ll go,” Ellie declared.

“You’ll just lie so we’ll feel better about aligning us with whoever wins,” Felix sniped.

“Correction: whoever survives,” Martin cheerfully added “Lady Blackwood has a pistol.”

(this is only going to end one way, won’t it?)

(but the more important question is, of course, whether I’m the moral victor!)

(damn inner monologue)

“I’m the only one out of us who can sneak worth a damn,” Ellie said. Before anyone had the time to express disagreement, she bolted right out of the door.

“She didn’t even leave silently,” Felix sighed.

“And if any of us were to follow, it would ruin all chances of Graham Bryant not noticing,” Martin added.

-

The first thing Ellie noticed was that Graham Bryant’s living quarters were much larger than the communal bedrooms of the other Iconoclasts.

The second thing she noticed was that the place needed to be cleaned. Badly.

Ellie inconspicuously stood by the door and inconspicuously leaned in to inconspicuously do something other than listen in. She was being very stealthy, you see.

“-will not deny it. What I did was necessary for the revolution,” Graham said “I pray and work every day to absolve my sin, but it had to be done to break the corporate hold on Monarch. If we would have faced more resistance than Sanjar and the pitiful scraps of Monarch Stellar, the revolution would have never even began.”

“So our movement is based on a lie,” Zora stated “Everything you preach is hypocrisy. It doesn’t matter what you do to earn forgiveness, because the dead can never come back. I wasn’t there, so the people, the survivors, should judge you.”

“Peace, friend,” Ellie could picture Graham holding up his hands “The masses are easily swayed, and in their herd mentality, may do something regrettable. In this trying time, it is best to keep the revolutionaries united, or we may fall even before we reach the Board.”

“You will not get away with this,” Zora promised “Stand down and face trial for your deeds, just as you preach how criminals should be judged by a jury.”

“I am indispensable to the rebellion,” Graham declared “Perhaps, when the corporations are no more, then I may be removed. But for now, the information shouldn’t spread. It must be preserved in secret, so that the revolution would not be vilified or the revolutionaries demoralized.”

“There won’t be any information left if I gave it away to you,” Zora disagreed “The Iconclasts can survive without you.”

“Without their greatest figurehead and leader?” Graham asked, intending for the question to be rhetorical.

“The deeds of our rebellion will speak louder than your words and flyers,” Zora declared “Stand down. I don’t want to do this.”

“Neither do I,” Graham answered, though there was no pain or hesitation in his voice “But I will not go down without a fight.”

One shot was heard. Zora walked out, holding herself unnaturally still. She noticed Ellie immediately and stared silently at her fellow medic, looking like an insomniac overdosed on coffee.

“It was suicide,” Zora told Ellie “He was suffering from terminal lung cancer and took his own life, rather than let the disease make him helpless and infirm.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Ellie nodded “I wasn’t here anyway. I was having a bathroom break. Diarrhea, you see.”

“Of course. What will you tell your captain?” Zora asked the real question.

“The truth,” the spacer stated “She’s smart enough to figure it out on her own anyway.”

“I strongly doubt that,” said Zora. Ellie snorted with laughter, but quickly realized her mistake when the other woman didn’t smile in the slightest.

“However, I am willing to negotiate,” the new leader said “But not with the captain.”

“Why not? It’ll be fun,” Ellie suggested, embracing her inner moroseness.

“Unfortunately, we don’t share a sense of humor,” Zora declined with a straight face.

“No guarantees, she’s pretty well-liked in Stellar Bay,” the wannabe pirate shrugged “. . . for some reason.”

“Idiots aren’t beholden to logic or common sense,” Zora observed.

Having reached an agreement, the two mostly legal doctors departed to conduct serious business.


	65. Calm Before Yet Another Storm

Graham Bryant was dead, nothing surprising there. May didn’t even feel particularly bad. Well, alright, she felt somewhat suspicious of Zora Blackwood, especially given she and the captain didn’t exactly like each other. And May was still unconvinced she could negotiate any kind of peace. Of course, it was too early to tell whether Sanjar would agree with - or listen to - anything she proposed. At least the Iconoclasts seemed way less driven to enter into open conflict. By this point, even keeping the cold war frosty was a win.

“The Iconoclasts have manpower, but we lack the resources to truly take on the Board, or fight a war against our neighbors,” Zora explained to Martin, giving May a wide berth (for some inconceivable reason) “If you are able to convince MSI to ally with us, I will do my part in facilitating the deal. If you fail, we will refrain from aggression, unless provoked or in extraordinary circumstances.”

“I’m afraid you will have to handle most of the negotiations yourself, Lady Blackwood,” Martin said humbly, either trying to brownnose her, or genuinely used to acting this way towards authority “I am but a disgraced salesman, my charisma lacking in many ways. The rest of the- my crew are no better in that regard.”

“I expect to handle the technical matters of any agreement that is to be signed, yes,” Zora agreed “And please, do not call me ‘lady’. I am in a position of power, true, but I am neither a despot nor inherently superior to you.”

“As you wish, ma’am,” Martin nodded “Given that we have nothing else to discuss, I shall take my leave.”

“Have a nice day,” said the new rebel leader, resuming her strategic ruminations.

“I didn’t hear everything,” May told as Martin approached “Do you think she is trustworthy?”

“Perhaps,” he paused to think. Martin looked downright dreamy as he turned his eyes up, while smiling slightly. “Zora Blackwood seemed tense while we talked, holding herself with unnatural poise. I have . . . experience regarding that. And she dislikes you greatly, but has yet to act upon it. She might be scheming against you.”

“She could just be unhappy because of what happened to Graham,” May rationalized “You don’t have to assume the worst.”

“In that case, our employment under the Iconoclasts seems promising,” the man decided “Zora Blackwood has yet to yell at me, already outdoing all my previous employers.”

“You’ve had a rough life,” May winced sympathetically “People should have the opportunity to leave if their job is bad, or their boss is cruel.”

“I left,” Martin pointed out.

“You shouldn’t have to join a gang of space pirates for that,” May disagreed “Back in my day, folks had the choice to join whichever company they so pleased. Well, except for certain weirdos, who so happened to be the only people accepted onto the Groundbreaker.”

“In terms of security, it was the correct move. New ideas are dangerous, spreading faster than any virus,” he waxed philosophically “In terms of freedom, it would’ve been better to broaden the criteria.”

“And when it caused controversy that only corporate drones were shipped off to this new hypercapitalist paradise, anyone who completed a test was allowed onto the Hope,” May seethed “Maybe it’s not an accident that the Hope - filled with open-minded, intelligent people never arrived. The Board got to collect their ticket fees, and hold an annual memorial day. I heard a theory that the ships belonged to a company UDL bought up, so they didn’t even have to build the Hope. All they had to do was throw away the lives of people who would seek to oppose them.”

“I don’t believe the companies would have done that,” Martin said “It seems unprofitable to immediately discard new converts- er, workers.”

“I think so too,” May sighed “Frankly, I don’t have any proof. But the truth is, the Hope isn’t lost. Everyone aboard it is still frozen and the Board won’t lift a finger to save them. Only Phineas Welles wants to save them. That’s why I’m working for him.”

“What?” Martin was taken aback, his smile slipping for a moment before he resumed talking in an uncomfortable monotone “Impossible. You must be mistaken - or fooled.”

“I wish I was,” the captain shook her head “Seventy-one years ago, I passed the entrance exam with my family - to be fair, the exam was ridiculously easy and I have no idea how I actually passed. May last year, I was revived by Phineas Welles. He sent me out to gather resources in order to save the rest of the passengers.”

“Are you certain that he truly seeks to free the others?” Martin asked after a brief pause.

“Not really,” said May, cursing her returning insecurities. Phineas was still in a position to betray her. She had been fooled by kind words and gestures of comfort, but to a trained manipulator, they meant nothing. And there was no one on the Unreliable easier to manipulate than its captain. “But I can’t exactly give myself over to the Board. My very existence is proof of that which they want to keep secret.”

“You have no evidence, aside from words,” Martin noted, as had many others before “Perhaps you should create some.”

“No- absolutely not,” May shuddered, remembering the movie made about her, which had survived the journey into Halcyon. “I- the only evidence comes from- would have to come from sources bad, which I don’t like. Truth and propaganda in equal measure, slander all the same. I shouldn’t touch them. Shouldn’t spread them.”

“So there is evidence?” he perked up.

“You should never see it,” the captain shook her head “People know, and I’ve shown it before, but it was foolish. I didn’t think through what I did. I was addled to drugs.”

Martin nodded, no longer seeming so bright and happy. “I would object to my personal information being shared too.” he demonstrated a sudden understanding of empathy “Unless done by Spacer’s Choice, of course. The company knows best. However, you are a rebel leader wielding certain authority, therefore, you must offer credibility and legitimacy for your claims and/or cause. What sources are we talking about, precisely?”

“Movies where I had been,” May clenched and unclenched her fists. The armored parts clacked satisfyingly against each other. “Movies of-of my life. Of childhood. I did not do them willingly. Once, I applied to university. I were denied, until they understood I was the girl who was raised by a robot. Then I got in. Then everyone knew who I were, everyone asked questions.”

“Your story does sound very profitable,” Martin stated.

“Exploitable,” May corrected “The press were surprised then. Made big headlines about how ‘savage child raised by uncaring machine’ is capable of going to college, capable of learning or growing. Wrote empty words of placation for money, like there’s an inspirational thing in having a father. Wrote how far I came, because of I bit a reporter who questioned a littler me. People in commenting places said there should exist a sequel, where adult me shows how far I came.”

“That was a whole new level of bad grammar,” Martin looked at her incredulously.

“Stop staring! Language gets that way when I upset,” the reject of society and common sense clarified “I wanted to leave Earth, I thought there was anonymity in the stars. Mine aunt and brother was curious also, in regards to leaving on a colony. I considered my wants for a while, but then I . . . then I seen pornography-like images of myself on some sites. That’s when I started searching for space-colony initiatives.”

“Objectively, spreading the truth would be beneficial to your- the cause,” Martin stood by his idea “But on a personal level, it would distract you from your dissentuous pursuits. I see your reasoning, captain.”

“Glad you do,” May sighed and shook her hands as if they were wet “I’m not that big of a deal anyway.”

“If you insist,” said Martin, not believing her last statement in the slightest.

It was already happening again. She was gaining fame. Well, she had a gun this time, and that had to count for something, right? Right?

To think that May had been too caught up in her own woes and misadventures to notice!

-

Felix and Annie sat on what amounted to grass, staring at a bright blue sky. Well, blue in the places that weren’t covered by the giant planet hanging overhead.

“I can’t believe Graham Bryant is dead,” Annie breathed.

“Me neither,” Felix said. If only he could tell her what had really happened, ask her for reassurance, confide his worries in her.

“And they say- they say he was the one who brought the pirates here,” she paused, unable to spit out the words she wanted to say “That he wanted to massacre the people. My mother was here . . . Felix, you found this information, didn’t you? Is it true?”

Oh how he wanted to lie, how he wanted to tell her that Graham was a hero and all those tales were just slander to ensure Zora could take over with impunity. How he wanted to believe that himself!

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly “These days, I don’t know if I’m right, if I’m making the correct choices. I don’t know who and what I can trust. It’s like we’re all stumbling blindly in the darkness, trying to get our bearings and resist the Board’s tyranny.”

“Will you leave again?” Annie put a hand on his shoulder “Can I come?”

“I have to,” Felix said “My captain will try negotiating some kind of deal between Monarch Stellar and you guys. If you want to, you can come.”

“She’s clearly not from here,” the novice engineer remarked “I think I’ll stay for the time being.”

“Whatever you like,” Felix shrugged.

An awkward pause hung in the air, neither lovebird knowing what to say.

In days past, simply basking in Annie’s presence would’ve been enough for Felix. Simply holding her hand would make him feel like nothing else in the world mattered. Now he felt empty, as if there were a wall separating him from her.

“So, uh, you like comics?” he asked, moving to hold her hand as if to recreate the warm flutter it once gave.

“Sure do,” Annie agreed “They burn so nice!”

And so, Felix was let down by yet another relationship. The true love he sought kept eluding him, as it had in years past.

Perhaps it had been naive of Felix, to think that fighting evil and oppression would break his rotten luck.

Back to searching impatiently and watching out for women with big guns, then.


	66. For Want Of A Bucket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates have been more infrequent, and will be more infrequent. My parents have begun to regulate my internet access, and I've taken up to playing video games with whatever time I have left. As always, feedback will encourage me to write.

As soon as the band of freedom fighters, or more precisely, people desperately in need of therapy arrived in Stellar Bay, the captain (arguably the one most in need of professional help) got a bad feeling. It probably had nothing to do with the fact that she had no armor except for a helmet, or the injuries she hada recently sustained via murderous alien monsters, or the fact that she was attempting something so far beyond her ability that it seemed laughable. No, the captain was simply paranoid. Nothing a few breathing exercises couldn’t fix!

“Maybe you all should find work,” May suggested. For some reason, she didn’t think having Felix and Ellie negotiate would go well. “If that’s possible, at all.”

“Excluding me, of course,” Martin chimed in, although his voice was slightly unsure.

“Yeah, you can stay,” the captain gestured dismissively, trying to emulate Ellie’s favorite hand movement.

Well, tried. The captain only made it seem like her wrist had a mind of its own (but what if it did?). Clearly, she had much to learn.

“I’m sure I’ll have more luck than you two,” Ellie grinned mockingly.

“We’ll have more luck,” Felix corrected.

Ellie snorted with superiority, but didn’t say anything demeaning for once.

May, being somewhat more cautious than before, strolled right up a guard and asked when she would be able to talk with Sanjar.

“I have serious business to discuss,” May said, squaring her shoulders in the most laughably show-offish, er, serious and imposing way.

“We have important business to discuss,” Martin cheerfully corrected her “I hope to do most of the discussing myself, since the captain is indisposed to civil conversation.”

“Serious business, eh?” the guard snickered, clearly taking the wandering circus extremely seriously “You can take it up with the boss when he’s on smoke break. If he listens, of course. Now shoo, we all have better things to do.”

“Us too,” Martin retorted politely “May the Architect- er, have a good day.”

The guard shook his head and continued his patrol. Adventurers were just the worst.

May and Martin resolved to wait, arriving on the correct spot with quite a while to spare. It was somewhat difficult to do, since construction work was in progress on a nearby rooftop. Well, it sounded like construction work. May decided to check it out, which was in no way lethally dangerous or illegal.

She found two locals having sex with the involvement of a bucket and a power drill.

“......” said May, unable to look away.

(dammit, life! Where is brain bleach when you need it?!)

The man moaned incessantly, while the woman straddling him had the mental capacity to look away.

“What-?” she exclaimed “I knew doing it in public was too risky!”

At that, the man looked at May. He screamed in terror and threw a bucket at her. The captain lost her grip on the roof and crashed down, spraining her wrist. The cum bucket bounced off the prefabricated rafters and landed neatly on Martin’s bald head.

“It’s full of glue!” the novice negotiator complained as he tried to pull it off.

(thank the stars it’s only glue!)

(to be fair, that’s actually pretty bad too. But imagine if the bucket was filled with-)

May stood up and looked around. She concluded that the peace negotiations had failed before they had even begun.

And of course, while May was attempting to pull the bucket off with both hands and Martin was swearing intranslateable curses, THAT was when Sanjar appeared on the scene.

“Good day, captain,” he regarded the scene with mild amusement “I see that Stellar Bay has not been kind to you today.”

(when has it ever?)

“Hello there,” May waved casually “We, uh, came to negotiate.”

“I bring dire tidings from the Iconoclasts!” Martin exclaimed, voice echoing in the bucket “Wait, I meant to say favorable tidings!”

The former salesman made an indescribable sound and spat out solidified glue. How it manages to get in his mouth was best left unknown.

“He’s the diplomat, but the bucket is full of glue,” May explained “So I guess I get to do the talking. Forgive me in advance if I say something offensive.”

“Statistically, most people would cope much worse with their head covered in glue,” Sanjar remarked, lighting a cigar “Therefore, you have found a worthy crew. Now, what is it that you wish to discuss?”

May glanced at Martin. For some reason, she wasn’t convinced she had recruited anyone worthy into her crew.

“There has been a change in leadership back in Amber Heights,” the intrepid failure gestured with one hand, while tugging on the bucket with the other “Graham Bryant died very tragically, which is very tragic. His second-in-command, Zora Blackwood, is now first-in-command. I suggested that there should be peace between Monarch Stellar and the Iconoclasts and she agreed. The only problem is that I now have to negotiate.”

“I can help you with that,” Martin said, tearing the bucket off. The skin had peeled off his cheeks, flesh protruding like stuffing from a torn toy, blood dribbling down his jaw.

“Actually, don’t,” May decided abruptly.

“Why not? I feel fine and there is no bucket in my way,” Martin plucked some solidified glue from his forehead.

“By my authority as captain, I command you to venture into the nearest medbay,” the woman excercised her power.

“You have authority as captain?” Martin looked at her, smoothing his suit as blood dripped onto the collar.

“Just do as I said!” May raised her voice “Your torn-up face isn’t helping anything.”

Martin fled the scene in haste.

“The young man seems in need of therapy. I take back my earlier statement about your crew,” Sanjar said, after a lengthy pause “I don’t see what could be gained in peace. It would be practical for one faction to rule the planet in unity, as Monarch Stellar Industries would have, had it not been for Bryant’s preaching and the massacre.”

“That is impossible,” May stated, trying to sound resolute “Even if you succeed - can you? - the realm will be divided for decades to come. As it will always be. Times are changing.

The corporations of the Board will soon fall. The people will expect more freedom and many will rise up to grasp it. I’m sure Monarch Stellar with its liberal views would attract many, and so would the Iconoclasts. What I’m trying to say is that I think it is best to let them survive, so that whoever feels rebellious and communist has a place to leave, instead of attempting a revolution, or rebellion, or whatever, within Monarch Stellar.”

“It is statistically unlikely for a significant enough force to arise and depose the Holdings Board within the next five years,” he disagreed “I intend to ally with them, and they seem receptive, for now. Choosing the Iconoclasts would make me an enemy of the other corporations, and I believe they desire to put a decisive end to this cold war on Monarch as much as you do.”

“There is a food crisis brewing. The Board will crumble, because they can’t even terraform their planets properly, much less ensure a consistent food supply,” May declared, then realized she had no proof “Besides, you’ve tried to convince them with facts before, what makes you think blackmail will work? They’ll just make Monarch Stellar do whatever they please, but never give it back a seat on the Board. After they’re done with you, they’ll have a propaganda piece ready and written to discredit the blackmail.”

“Your reasoning is sound. I hope you can produce proof of the pending food crisis,” Sanjar decided “Until then, have a good day.”

Well, fuck.

“How’s the talking going?” Ellie appeared on the horizon, grinning ear-to-ear “Where’s Martin?”

“He had an unfortunate accident with a bucket,” May explained “I had nothing to do with it, I swear!”

Behind Ellie stood Celia Robbins.

May mistakenly made eye contact with the secretary, whose death glare seemed enough to blind a human. The unlucky captain looked away, shielding her head.

“Well met, captain,” Celia said in a falsely neutral tone, then turned to her boss “Sir, there are better ways to entertain yourself, there’s no need to involve clowns. At least she’s not messing up the schedule this time.”

Ellie moved towards May, and in an unprecedented gesture of affection, shielded her. Wait, no, the medic was just rubbing salt into the wound, reveling in being superior to her captain. Whoops.

“Why did you bring Celia here?” May whispered, a little louder than she intended.

“Well, Miss Fenhill was aiding me with personal matters,” Celia turned to stare icily at the offending captain “And since she mentioned you ‘negotiating’, I had to go and put a stop to this before you did something unfortunate.”

“The captain is guilty of nothing but wasting my time,” Sanjar said.

“Exactly,” Celia nodded “Let’s go. Concerning the reports Mrs. Wiśniewska sent this week . . .”

The two leaders of Monarch Stellar left, engaged in a lively discussion on manufacturing standards.

the captain sighed “Negotiating is like selling lemonade from a stall. My opinion is worth nothing if I can’t make people buy it- er, buy into it. The metaphor escaped me for a moment.”

“Maybe Martin could’ve helped you,” Ellie suggested “Alas, if only you didn’t have to send him away. If only you could’ve argued for peace.”

“Check up on him in the medbay if you want to see my reasons,” May said “Can you call ADA through the landing pad terminal? I know what to do.”

“Don’t you always,” Ellie smiled sweetly “I’ll buy bandages.”


	67. Speech is Silver, Silence is Stupid

The weather was unusually damp when ADA finally arrived in Stellar Bay, which caused May to slip - twice! - before correctly ascending the landing ramp. The embarrassing falls had nothing to do with the captain’s poor agility, made only worse by the many bullet wounds she had sustained.

“What’s up, captain?” Parvati asked, after helping May up “Did you . . ?”

“I need the dataslate where you saved Chairman Rockwell’s speech,” May declared “And I need to put it online. Or spread it the fastest way possible.”

“Why’s that?” the engineer asked as she brought forth the recording.

“I have to convince Sanjar Nandi of the Board being assholes,” May explained “I’m not sure how the recording will help, but at least it will embarrass the chairman.”

“Alright then,” Parvati gave over the dataslate “Let’s show everyone how the Chairmain looks without photoshop.”

“Do all old people grow double chins?” May wondered as she tried not to slip on the landing ramp a third time. She, predictably, failed.

“Guess we’ll find out when we get there,” Parvati shrugged, effortlessly striding on the rain-slick pavement.

“If we get there,” May remarked, tripping again. Perhaps she should’ve avoided suffering repeated leg injuries when it still mattered. Hindsight, like common sense, was an asshole.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” Parvati admonished “I mean, you’re not wrong- but I know that and Ellie knows that - right, Ellie?” Ellie shook her head, smiling mockingly. “- so you don’t have to bring that up and dampen everyone’s mood.”

The video recording of Chairman Rockwell’s great beauty was uploaded on whatever seemed to be the closest equivalent of the Internet present in Halcyon. That is, the landing pad terminal. The internet connection in Halcyon was truly terrible, but at least May wasn’t an international celebrity . . . yet.

Come to think of it, she was, people just asked for the deaths of their enemies instead of autographs. The captain could live like that.

After that, May visited Martin in the medical bay. Felix was there too, either because he was a magnet for all the worst kind of ladies, or so offensive to womankind that he could inspire hatred in even the kindest of girls.

Martin looked marginally better than he had before. By “marginally better”, May meant that his cheeks no longer bled where the skin had peeled off (is this how flayed corpses look? How long does it take to die from flaying? How long does flaying itself-?).

“That’s just what they want you to think,” Ellie said sweetly, after finishing to read May’s thoughts “While they poison the only person in our crew who knows how to talk to bureaucrats.”

“Surely my experience-” Parvati began “-sorry, go on.”

“How long do I have to compose a testament?” Martin asked.

He didn’t seem afraid at all, staring into space as always. Perhaps he understood sarcasm better than he let on?

“I was just joking,” Ellie snorted with laughter “I can’t believe you all fell for that! Then again, you need to be paranoid given who we’ll be fighting for real soon.”

“That’s just what they want you to think,” Martin speculated “Can’t you see that the captain and the first mate are simply obfuscating their stupidity?”

“Well, that’s what they want you to think,” Ellie retorted “I know enough morons to know that May is really one of them.”

“That’s because I let you,” May interjected.

A great silence befell the conspirators.

“I believe that this many levels of conspiracy is bad for your mental health,” Parvati cautioned “Guys, um, mayhaps we can all think happy thoughts instead?”

“That’s won’t help anything,” said Ellie, helpfully reminding everyone in the room that she was a doctor, not a psychologist.

“Nobody sane would ever become a dissident,” Martin observed “Which means that our individual and collective insanity cannot be helped.”

“Nobody sane would ever govern, at least not in Halcyon,” May remarked “Nobody sane ever has, in Halcyon, at least.”

“And you plan to change that?” Parvati wondered.

“Like that would ever work,” Ellie muttered.

“I . . . honestly haven’t thought that far ahead,” May shrugged “I just want to get my brother and aunt back.”

“Fair enough,” the team medic shrugged “It’s not like you could create a stable government anyway.”

May shrugged again, and went to visit Felix. Felix had attempted to woo a cannery worker with his sprat-catching skills, thereby making the near-fatal mistake of a Bad Pun. The captain wished him a hasty recovery and hastily retreated.

She passed a tray of inhalers in the hallway. Clean, pretty inhalers, not the second-hand trash May had found on a marauder’s corpse. She needed to- had to-. They were hiding her inhalants, she knew it, they were close, so close, she just had to find them, had to or- or-. She didn’t even need an inhaler, she could rub it into her nose the old-fashioned way. Unfortunately, May didn’t dare to do anything, not while her buddies were around.

After that, May inquired with the guards when would be an acceptable time to entertain Sanjar Nandi with her overwhelming stupidity, er, talk about important stuff. The guards told her to approach him at the same time tomorrow. If only May had been smart enough to realize herself that Sanjar did things on schedule.

The evening was spent in great torture, as May searched the ship for her lost inhalants. They weren’t there, of course, as they hadn’t been yesterday, or the week before, or the week before that. ADA was politely silent, all the while quietly amusing herself with the captain’s stupidity. Parvati and Ellie played guessing games with ADA, but May doubted that stopped the robot from watching the desperate addict’s search.

Also, someone had locked the door. May cursed them with all her heart, while the logical part of her brain sung praises to whomever that had stopped her from scouring the city in search of drugs.

The next morning, May first dragged a heavily bandaged Martin out of his hospital bed. The security was awful enough for no one to notice. Or perhaps they just didn’t want to piss off a spacefaring killer and her entourage of seriously disturbed criminals (who stayed at large because there were no insane asylums in Halcyon, last May had checked. Maybe there should be). The second thing she did was inform Martin of everything that could even remotely - even theoretically - work to convince Sanjar that negotiating with Zora would be very beneficial.

After hanging out in the same mildly suspicious alleyway, May and Martin managed to not get into any debacles before Sanjar Nandi arrived to parley. For some reason, his second-in-command was also present.

“Welcome back, captain,” the local leader inclined his head in greeting “I trust you have brought evidence of the food crisis you claim will soon ravage Halcyon.”

May took out the dataslate and wordlessly handed it to Martin. She didn’t feel like whatever came out of her mouth at the moment would be intelligible. The recording hadn’t spread as fast as she had anticipated. The fake internet was really terrible.

“Anything you can say, he can say with more eloquence, I’m sure of it,” Celia Robbins regarded the captain coldly.

“Absolutely,” Martin nodded “This dataslate contains a transcribed recording of Chairman Rockwell’s speech, recovered from the Ministry of Accuracy and Morale in unknown circumstances (I wasn’t there).”

“With all due respect, perhaps the captain can leave now,” Celia continued.

“Have fun, Martin,” said May, voice strained.

She considered immediately fleeing to her ship, or taking refuge in the nearest broom closet, but curiosity yet again won over dignity and self-preservation: May climbed up a trashcan (some things, like the placing of large trash receptacles, never change) and positioned herself on the roof, just like the very inventive couple the day before.

“-so, in accordance with this extremely truthful recording - would it even be possible to fake the exact shade of dark circles beneath the Chairman’s eyes? - and other evidence which is more suspicious, thus not worth mentioning, there is or will be in the near-future a food crisis,” Martin reasoned verbosely.

“The planet Monarch has a large amount of land and resources which would prove extremely useful in the coming cataclysm.” the salesman continued selling May’s ideas “Due to Monarch Stellar Industries™’s manpower shortages - in no way caused by the greater appeal of dissident ideology - it would prove useful to ally with the Iconoclasts™, thereby gaining a greater workforce to exploit. Surely the ownership of an entire planet would provide enough food for every expendable worker?”

“Firstly, workers, especially skilled workers, are anything but expendable,” Sanjar corrected the improperly dissenting young man “Humans take over a decade to mature and properly indoctrinate. The Holdings Board’s greatest flaw is the callousness with which they treat their underlings. Perhaps a drop in Halcyon’s population would remind them. Secondly, the plan which you - and, presumably, the captain - propose, while strategically viable, almost certainly profitable as well (the margin I have yet to calculate), would be reasonable only in the event that the Board’s plan regarding the food crisis was unviable.

As it stands, the Board will accept my company back - on the condition that Monarch be cleansed of revolutionary elements. How would allying with the Iconoclasts instead be more profitable?”

“The Board’s plan to cope with the crisis is to freeze non-essential workers instead of overhauling the food production, which is extremely wasteful,” Martin argued “Especially since reliable cryostasis technology has been lost. In Halcyon, subjects in suspended animation cannot be kept alive with any certainty even for a year, while the wider world can only extend the viability of subjects up to ten years. It was the case when the Groundbreaker first set sail, and it is the case now.”

“If the situation is so dire, it is very likely that a request for assistance has already been sent to the other colonies,” Sanjar conjectured “Perhaps even Earth has been notified, if the situation is dire enough for the Board to resort to cryogenically preserving the workforce, which, I agree, is terribly inefficient. However, what alternatives are there? The soil on Monarch is unsuited to agriculture.”

“There are many forms of food production which do not rely on soil,” Martin continued, after a sizable pause “I have heard of hydroculture, which is a method of growing plants without soil, utilizing mineral nutrient solutions in water instead. I am sure there are other ways, but I am not scientifically knowledgeable enough to describe them. The captain - believe it or not - has an extensive education, due to the peculiar circumstances of her early life which you may ask her about (though I doubt she would elaborate). Additionally, she has allies who are proficient in biology and chemistry. I have never met them, for they are dissidents and must live in secrecy, but they would surely do anything to prevent needless deaths from hunger.”

“So May works with Phineas Welles?” Celia unexpectedly spoke up “I should’ve known - of course she’s but a lapdog of more dangerous players.”

Up on her roof, May inhaled sharply. She wasn’t important enough to be noticed, though.

“I can neither confirm nor deny this statement,” Martin said in his best monotone.

“One question still remains,” Sanjar brought the discussion back on track “How would it be more profitable to ally with the Iconoclasts and the captain’s employer (whoever that might be, as there is not enough evidence to conclude anything), instead of the Board? Surely they have no shortage of personnel who would be capable of alleviating the food shortages?”

“They will push on with their original plan, for admitting failure would, in their minds, greatly undercut their power,” Martin answered.

“Thus, it seems unlikely that the Board would implement any scientific solution. Not only that, but Board-certified - and especially loyal - scientists are more focused on whisking up evidence for however their bosses want the world to work, rather than actual science with tangible, quantifiable results. Besides, the shortages of workers and essential resources will weaken the Board, making them more agreeable. Who’s to say the corporations will see the destruction of the Iconoclasts as something they can waste precious resources on? It’s not like they’re actually capable of seriously challenging the Board, not without immense losses that the new leadership seems unwilling to risk.

Therefore, the situation may yet remain calm for many decades. A perfect opportunity to play both sides and make great profits, is it not?”

Sanjar and Celia conferred briefly, both agreeing that such a peace would be a good opportunity. However, Sanjar wanted more information on Zora. And he wanted to get it from the ruins of Cascadia, because of course he did. Only a decades-old dossier composed by a different company would be enough to prove Zora’s mettle.

The three negotiators (well, two, Celia was just purple-haired window dressing) exchanged pleasantries and dispersed. May wondered where Martin went - she didn’t recall him having anything to do (he probably went to the ship. Oh right. I’m so stupid). On second glance, Sanjar remained, disposing of a smoked cigar.

May jumped down from the roof. Pain flared through her left ankle and missing foot, twisting her face into a rictus grin. The captain found herself unable to speak through lips that no longer obeyed her.

“I expected you to be listening in. Your underlings do seem potentially very treacherous, as you most likely already know. It’s always interesting to see you climb, captain,” Sanjar nodded to her “If only more of my own personnel were as capable in detecting security holes.”

May paused, trying to close her mouth. “I’m just very enthusiastic about trespassing,” she shrugged.

“Your proclivity for stealth and violence is certainly useful, if somewhat worrying,” he agreed “Perhaps you could one day test the defences of Stellar Bay more thoroughly.”

“I’d do that,” May said, neglecting to name a price.

“A time can be scheduled, I’m sure,” the man turned to leave “For now, good travels.”

“Thanks, bye,” May similarly scurried away, contemplating how to convincingly fake a Rizzo’s dossier. It wouldn’t do to assume she would get lucky and find something real.


	68. Louder Than Words

Despite May having visited Cascadia near half a dozen times, it was still crawling with filth. Unlike before, however, all the marauders, who, despite the robots and mantisaurs and raptidons and the previous raiders being dead, had made their way to the abandoned lab (seriously, what do they see in this place?), were already disposed of. May let her friends take care of the robots. She couldn’t stand looking at her father’s death over and over again.

Just as the captain wandered off, away from the carnage, she tripped over a dead raider. Nothing unusual here, except that the marauder was wearing her old helmet.

May picked it up. The tiny recorder she had glued into it was cracked, no longer of any use. The headpiece itself was split nearly in half by a large crack, eye lenses torn out, paint chipped. Was this what she was like - broken, ugly, lost? Was this what she would become - useless, discarded, destroyed? Was this what she could have been - so deep in her inhalants that nothing else could ever move her?

Oh, and there was a spare inhaler, loaded and ready to go. May crept closer, snatching it up from the corpse of its previous owner. She turned the mechanism in her hands, getting the gauntlets stained with powder. It smelled so sweet, so nice, all she had to do was take her helmet off, take a nice, deep breath . . . let all of her fear and anger out . . . feel the air in her lungs, the sun on her eye lenses . . .

. . . no, actually, there were so many people nearby and anyway, she was hideous, no way would she ever take it off, she didn’t have to, she could live without the inhaler, couldn’t she? Couldn’t she? May threw the inhaler away, though her hands itched and fingers shook. She stood there, still regarding where the inhaler had landed. Perhaps she ought to run after it, dump her helmet aside, inhale again and again and again, until her face and fingers went numb.

The captain walked away, away from the proof that she was doomed. Doomed and ruined, from the moment she was born. The reckoning would come one day, a day like any other, a day when she would finally slip up.

While she had been lowkey pining for drugs, her buddies had actually found Zora Blackwood’s old documents and were ready to go. So much for being the hero of the story and the chosen savior of the world.

The new batch of documents recovered from an old ruin was much more well-received than the last. At least, that’s what May thought, because they didn’t immediately cause any deaths or cases of betrayal. In fact, Sanjar was quite pleased with Zora’s past performance, though the captain didn’t know how treating tuberculosis helped with leading a revolution.

Negotiations were scheduled to occur inside an abandoned church surrounded by ruins. Great idea.

The following night, May snuck in and killed all the wild animals in the vicinity of the church. And all the raiders inside. Motherfucking trademarked god, Sanjar was really bad with security, wasn’t he?

(May conveniently ignored how long it took for her to reach an unambiguous conclusion, especially with all the climbing)

(selective perception is the best)

When May found she could easily remember the last place where she had seen inhalants but not where she had put her spare underwear, she began to doubt the true value of selective perception.

When the day was right, nearly everyone of any importance who happened to be on the planet of Monarch gathered in the measly cathedral. Well, around it. The church was rather tiny and only the most important visitors were given a seat on its pews to preserve the illusion of a spacious hall.

“I have written and memorized my speech,” Martin reported, waving around a dataslate “I have memorized it very well. I have never memorized anything so thoroughly.”

“Yeah, sure, good luck,” May tried and failed to reassure him “You’ll definitely do better than me.”

“That accomplishment is meaningless,” he stated.

“Wow, that’s a lot of bodyguards Sanjar Nandi has there,” Felix barged into the conversation like a wild bear “I feel kinda weird in my tossball gear, compared to their armor.”

“Mind calling Parvati and standing menacingly over Martin’s shoulders?” May suggested.

“That would be quite distracting,” the discount diplomat said.

“It’s for your own protection,” Felix nudged the man lightly “If anyone starts throwing mock-apples, I’ll shield you with my own body.”

“A sensible course of action,” Martin said in full seriousness “Though I’ll have to ask Parvati not to brandish the flamethrower near me.”

“And to think I promoted you from Human Shield,” May jokingly poked Felix.

“Oh no! Not a demotion!” he gasped in mock horror “My luminous captain, have mercy!”

“Go get Parvati,” the warrior wannabe ordered after she had finished giggling.

Felix saluted and ran off. From the corner of her eye, May saw him beeline to a candy seller on the corner. Yes, some particularly enterprising folks from MSI and Fallbrook had put up stalls and brought wares. No, only the most hardcore Iconoclasts protested. Well, the hardcore Iconclasts protested everything new that came with the change in leadership. And there was quite a large amount of them. Zora could be ousted before anything could truly be implemented, perhaps even killed. And that would be May’s fault.

Whatever. The captain had done everything she could. It was enough - it had to be.

Ellie had declined to come, citing her fear of a massacre, so May found no opposition when she purchased a frightfully expensive suit of original Iconoclast armor. The armor wasn’t even that hard to fake, despite its rarity - one just had to take Hephaestus mining gear and slap on a new coat of paint. The captain soon found that she should’ve left the raider armor at home. She also found that she needed a bigger backpack.

“You remember the points I gave you, right?” May walked right back to Martin “They’re included in your speech, yes?”

“With absolute certainty!” he declared dramatically “I have never composed such a rousing speech, nor have I ever memorized anything so utterly!”

“Thanks, man,” the captain said “You’ll wing it.”

“I will do what?”

“Nevermind”

The crowd started moving, important people congregating in the church. May and friends took that as a cue to move along with them.

“You told me to protect Martin, didn’t you?” Parvati whispered to her captain “I-I don’t feel so good bein’ watched by so many eyes. They feel like the people in the lab, staring and judging.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not an order,” May reassured her “Look at the ceiling. No one will notice under that helmet.”

“I’ll put your expertise to good use, captain” Parvati nodded, only mostly joking.

May took a seat next to the entrance, ready to run if things got heated. Well, she probably wouldn’t, since she had friends up front. They were much more important than any wounds to her pride or head. She noticed a large contingent of thugs, er, fine folks from Fallbrook seated between her and her buddies, but they were no obstacle, the captain could dodge motherfucking bullets. Sometimes. When she didn’t forget about her superpower altogether.

Yes, everything was fine. Everything was totes fine, especially Martin Callahan’s state of mind, no need to worry over it at all.

“We have gathered here,” Zora began, hidden from the captain’s sight by the crowd “to formalize an alliance between the Iconoclasts and Monarch Stellar Industries. All questions posed shall be answered, in due time. But first, a word from Martin Callahan, crewmember on the Unreliable and underling to Captain May.”

“Does the captain have a last name?” someone asked the first question.

“You are asking out of turn,” Sanjar noted with obvious displeasure.

Parvati and Felix glanced at each other, then looked back at May. The captain shrugged, shaking her head at the same time, as if she could explain anything.

“. . . it’s complicated,” Felix concluded. Miraculously, he was even correct.

Martin frantically scrolled through his dataslate, smile taut akin a feral snarl.

“You may speak,” Sanjar gestured to the slightly insane negotiator.

Martin opened his mouth, then realized his stupidity and closed it again. He gazed at the crowd, smile returning to a more natural shape. There was grumbling next to the captain. She hoped Martin doesn’t hear that. Felix leaned down to whisper something into the former salesman’s ear. May put a hand on her pistol, anticipating many terrible things.

-

Martin stared at the dataslate. The speech was not in order. The speech was not in order, he had forgotten, committed the gravest sin possible, he couldn’t start speaking now, not after-

“I’d be afraid too, buddy,” Felix whispered “but you wash dishes too well for the captain to leave you. Besides, nobody else on the ship would be intelligent enough to stay silent, instead of embarrassing everyone with wrong words.”

Yes. Of course. Everything was fine; Martin just needed to pull himself together, get this over with, and plan future employment (preferably as far away from Monarch as humanly possible). Just so.

-

“I am honored to speak before an assembly of such fine personages,” Martin began, baring his teeth again. He seemed unfamiliar with a toothbrush. “The captain has a few things to announce.

Firstly, she offers her skills as a visual designer to both Monarch Stellar Industries and the Iconoclast Freedom Movement. Captain May claims she has good ideas on how to improve the logos of both organizations. Secondly, she will do everything in her power to get the planet fully terraformed, mainly through transporting the spare equipment found on Scylla and retrieving knowledge of the process. Lastly, she will oppose the Board, both directly and indirectly, while not sullying Monarch Stellar Industries or the Iconoclasts with her allegiances. That can be remedied, of course.

The captain is happy to have facilitated such an alliance and wishes a bright and prosperous future for the residents of Monarch. Though she does not speak personally, that is in recognition of her own ineloquence, not due to laziness or indifference.”

May smiled to herself. Unusually for her, it was genuine.

“What a rousing speech!” Sanjar humored Martin’s feeble attempt at something eloquent “Now, onto the actual terms of the agreement between MSI and the Iconoclasts.”

May wanted to listen, but a strange sort of fellow sitting directly in front of her took all the attention. She could swear she had seen him before, wearing that jacket and ill-fittting shoes, smiling sleazily as he swindled her . . . yup, he had once stolen her crutches. A spectator from Fallbrook, then.

While May was pondering what revenge to extract on the bastard (hmm . . . place a “kick me” sign on his back? Glue his backpack shut? Dump mud onto his hat? Assassinate him in the bushes?) and the local leaders were explaining to the moronic populace why their way was the Only Way(™), one of the guards shed the disguise of an extremely loyal and trustworthy individual by pointing a gun at Zora Blackwood.

“You would sell us out to the Board and their lackeys before a week has passed since Graham’s death,” he snarled “This ends now. Revolutionaries, to arms!”

Immediately, other conspirators revealed themselves, gun muzzles bristling in every direction.

(......)

(well, that escalated quickly)

(oh shit oh fuck what do I do??)

Other, more loyal, people with guns drew them too. One particularly sleazy man from Fallbrook pointed a gun at both sides.

“Traitors!” a woman pointed at the disgruntled revolutionaries “Cowardly curs! You wouldn’t dare to oppose Zora in the open, only when your victory assured!”

“Assured?” a man trying to unjam his rifle shouted “As if!”

“What a bold way to broach demands,” Sanjar noted “Now, what is it exactly that you want?”

May stood and glanced at her crew. Martin was flipping through his dataslate, fingers cramped. He wasn’t even wearing armor. Felix was staring at a particular adversary, looking shocked. Parvati had a hand on her flamethrower, not daring to burn anything down (yet). Her chestplate was at least well-maintained.

May drew her own gun. She could do it. She could fix this. She could slow time enough. None of her crew would get hurt.

May glanced around, noting which way the people had pointed their guns. It would do her no good to shoot the wrong person.

“Our enemies are the Board and those who would stand with them,” the third leader in the room spoke “those who would ignore the blood on their hands and give us over to their rule, chain us to their tyranny once more. People of Monarch, do you stand with me? Turn your arms upon these two corporates and together, we will usher in an age of freedom, we will start the Board’s downfall-”

Ah yes. Another would-be villain’s fatal love of monologues, right there.

“We did more to fight against the Board than you ever did in your entire life!” Felix spat back “Sitting here in safety, sending out pamphlets, when my crew struck into the heart of Byzantium itself!”

The planner of the attempted coup looked at the spacefarers. A sight for sore eyes, they were: confused, pissed and mostly unarmored, tender flesh only hidden by dirty clothes.

It was the last thing he ever saw.

May slowed time, shooting straight through his helmet’s eyehole. She dispatched two dudes who were aiming at Sanjar Nandi, then a scrawny-looking woman in the crowd, who had somehow brought a sniper rifle to a peace meeting.

May stepped out from behind the sleazy salesman, dispatching another would-be revolutionary. The captain stepped closer to her crewmembers, right in front of three loyalists with pistols. She shot another man whose finger had almost pulled the trigger on a loyal guard, then an old lady who was switching her aim from Zora to Sanjar.

The captain felt tired, like she wanted to return to normal time and lay down for a while, like she had been underwater for too long and couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t stop. She hit a guy waiting in an alcove with a grenade, then another overeager conspirator with three combat knives and a mohawk. She saw a female guard aiming at Felix and moved to stand in front of him, shooting the lady in the chest.

Then May found herself with a bullet in her lungs and no more tricks up her sleeve.

Wait, who shot me? She thought right before her head impacted the tile floor.


	69. The Life and Death of Romance

May woke up in Stellar Bay, alive and mostly well. The negotiations were over and she wouldn’t have participated in them anyway if they hadn’t been. The good thing was that the peace meeting hadn’t been boring at all. The bad things was that she had gotten shot.

Oh well. Bad things always came with the good, as the universe conspired to ruin May’s life time and time again. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The unlucky captain stood with effort and paced around the room. She had already managed to memorize the layout of the medbay, which probably said something important about her habits and character. May wondered how long it would take for another person to grow concerned over her well-being and check up on her.

Her helmet had been left on the bedside table and May felt a chill go through her when she guessed how many people would’ve seen her without it. One corner of her mouth twitched downward involuntarily.

It took half a day, which probably said something important about her habits and character, but May was too preoccupied with trying to stuff a sprat into pillow casing to care.

“I see that you’ve made a speedy recovery,” Ellie remarked “Enjoying the new addition to your ribcage?”

May demonstrated her excellent health by doubling over wheezing and coughing from standing up too fast.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Ellie.

“Can we go?” the captain asked, after accidentally spitting right onto her eyepiece.

“Right after I tell you about our lord and savior, Chairman Rockwell,” she smiled “and his remarkable resemblance to a certain explosive mess you keep employed.”

“Felix? What has he ever done to you?” May made the grave mistake of posing a rhetorical question within earshot of her crew.

“He drank the last can of beer,” Ellie explained “That day, I swore I would have vengeance: I would catch him and corner him . . . and force him to drink Rizzo’s Purpleberry And Pineapple beer!”

“Oh,” said May “please don’t, he never did anything to deserve it.”

“No mercy!” the medic smirked gleefully “Only pain and suffering for my enemies, only the slow creeping touch of oblivion for those who have wronged me!”

May laughed. Whatever Ellie lacked in loyalty and tact, she certainly made up for in humor.

“Anyway, you’re free to mysteriously vanish from your room before they bring someone else to slowly die next to you,” the shotgun surgeon pointed to the free beds “I hope you don’t limp too loudly.”

“Of course I don’t,” the captain boldly claimed “Just let me trip over a smooth floor tile and fall on my face, alerting the entire hospital to our suspicious escapades.”

“Are you trying to make me carry you?” Ellie wiggled her eyebrows “People just keep falling for me everywhere I go. Or falling onto me.”

“I’m actually totes fine and healthy, I wasn’t even shot in the foot,” May decided abruptly “Let’s get out of here, or did they take another of my crew hostage?”

“Nah, we’re all fine,” the extremely professional and reputable doctor said “Well, Felix is mopey, but that’s just cause his crush tried to shoot him.”

“Wait, that Annie girl was participating in a coup?” May stopped.

“Sure did,” Ellie confirmed “The one with the sniper rifle. You shot her, remember?”

“.......” said the captain. She had no idea how to approach Felix after this.

It was a dark and stormy night, but with added sulphur stench (now 20% more inescapable!). Amazingly, May tripped on the Unreliable’s boarding ramp only once. Everyone was present, including Theodore the teddy bear, who couldn’t defend himself and thus took priority over the likes of Parvati and Felix.

“So, we heading out?” May asked the crew she could readily scrounge up.

“Actually, captain . . .” Parvati raised a hand “I was thinkin’ to mayhaps buy a casserole for my date. They make the real good ones here, or so I heard.”

May was more than a little surprised that anything ‘real good’ was made on Monarch, but mentally shrugged and agreed.

The supposedly world-class casserole was sold by a suspicious mustachio in a grungy tavern full of sweaty workers and cheap booze. For some reason, May didn’t believe its worth, but she couldn’t exactly refuse her First Mate.

“You sure this is the right place?” Ellie voiced the suspicions the captain was too nice to say.

“I asked around,” Parvati said, then turned to the cook “How much would the casserole cost, good sir?”

“3000 bits,” said the native, obviously trying to get rich on the earnings of humble and generous heroes.

May sighed, knowing that, with her eloquence, haggling was a lost cause, and began counting her bits.

“Wait a moment, Parvati,” Ellie stopped the purchase “And you too, captain. Let’s have a chat over there.”

“Why?” May looked up.

“Parvati, you don’t need this. It’s an utter waste of money,” the medic stated “There’s a food crisis coming, and we’ve gotta stockpile bits, not waste them on frivolous whims you get to please your girlfriend.”

“It’s not that much, we’ll make it back in no time,” May protested.

Parvati wrung her hands, frowning guiltily like a scolded child.

“Jun said it’s her favorite,” the mechanic mumbled “I-I want our first date to be perfect, I want her to be happy.”

“Or you think she’ll reject you?” Ellie guessed.

“Well, I don’t think she’s shallow or judgmental, but we haven’t been a thing for that long and she might,” Parvati bit her lip “I’ve found somebody who doesn’t reject me because they want more than I can give. I don’t want to lose it all.”

Ellie, very uncharacteristically, considered her words for a few moments.

“If Junlei really has such high standards, would it really be fulfilling to date her? Would you want to constantly cater to her every whim?” the medic asked “and don’t tell me about how she’s highborn or some such excuses; if she doesn’t understand that you’re a poor spacer employed by an utter moron, she’s obviously too stupid for you. Parvati, you deserve only the best, and you should seek better employment someday. No offense to ADA, but your great skill is wasted on just this tiny ship.”

“Yeah!” May piped in, slightly cross at being called stupid for the 496th time “And if Jun thinks to hurt you, I’ll beat her up!”

“Thanks,” Parvati straightened her pauldron “You’re right, Ellie. I’m just so wound up over rejection . . . the fear’s tying me down. I dunno what to do with it. The thought of our love suddenly ending . . .”

“Oh, don’t worry so much,” Ellie returned to her normal state of indifference “Miss Tennyson seems like a good person. I doubt she’d be that concerned with what you brought to your date, more with whether you two will have a good time.”

May, despite her highly deficient social skills, sensed that it was a good time for a hug. She wrapped her arms around Parvati, who put a hand onto the captain’s back.

“I’ll be there for you whether Junlei rejects you or not,” May said quietly “If things go bad, you can cry into my shoulder. You’ll mourn and be down, but it’ll get better. Just maybe sob into the left shoulder, cause there’s an old wound in my right one, where I got shot, remember?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, cap,” Parvati laid her chin on May’s bad shoulder (ow! What did I just tell you?).

“If you keep going as you are, captain, every body part of your will be covered in old wounds,” Ellie noted “Let’s see what you’ve scarred already . . . left foot, right shoulder, right side of chest, both knees and ankles, face, I’m not even going to count the trauma . . . wanna bet how soon you’re gonna get the next serious injury.”

“Oh come on, I’m not that clumsy,” May disentangled herself from Parvati with some difficulty, and immediately tripped on a loose floor tarp.

The chef sniffed disaprovingly as they walked past, hands in his empty pockets. Ellie mockingly waved his goodbye. Despite the dark and stormy night, the future seemed bright and very prosperous.

-

Felix held the ribbon in his hands, winding it around his finger. Once, Annie had worn it in her hair, smiling and holding his hand, now she was dead, shot down like a common criminal. Shot down by the captain. May just kept ruining his life, didn’t she? First Graham, condemned on flimsy pretences, choosing death over dishonor, then Annie, murdered with the plotters of a coup. Was she really one of them? Or did May shoot her simply because the girl carried a gun? Did May make a mistake?

Felix wasn’t sure which was worse: his old flame, a dangerous conspirator, or his captain, slaughterer of innocents. And if Annie really was . . . one of them, was she right? Was the mutual assistance pact doomed, was Zora a bad leader, were the Iconoclasts absorbed back into the Board, was Graham’s death unjust? There was no way for him to know.

There was no way to know whether Felix was on the side of heroic rebels or evil scoundrels. He could only wait and see, wonder and guess, because he didn’t know what was true, what was propaganda of the Board, what was a lie.

The captain didn’t know that too. She couldn’t have been sure then if Annie was dangerous, or if she just carried the gun to protect herself. Or maybe Felix remembered things wrong and Annie had been aiming right at Zora’s head. Nobody could ever be sure.

And the others didn’t even care.

“Pity you always attract the craziest types,” Ellie had said to him in the church, staring at Annie’s corpse “You’ll find someone better soon enough.”

“Perhaps your terrible luck in love is the Architect’s divine punishment for your dissidence,” Martin had happily theorized, when he had done nothing but mutter slogans and prayers during the whole mess.

Felix twirled the ribbon in his hands, then put it away. No point in dwelling on that. He would do the best he could, to the best of his skill and knowledge, and the world would be better for it. He would be remembered as a hero who gave his all.

Felix resolved to insist on visiting Clyde. If he was truly the revolutionary he claimed to be (Felix had met enough fakes to be doubtful, even if it really was Clyde motherfucking Harlow), the crew needed his support.


	70. Love and Starvation

It was the big day. Junlei Tennyson herself would be setting foot aboard the Unreliable. May composed a list of topics for the date, to be used in the case of an awkward silence. Parvati thanked her profusely, but neglected to mention how she had struck ‘impress Jun with your badass killings’ out almost immediately. Ellie wished her well, and decided to spend the day on the Groundbreaker. Felix patted Parvati on the shoulder so hard she nearly faceplanted into an (in)conveniently placed broom. ADA simply promised to not distract. Martin, awestruck by such an important visitor, single-handedly washed all the floors and windows while everyone else was asleep.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Parvati said in shock when the negotiator reported his success.

“Nonsense! Only the very best for the de facto ruler of the Groundbreaker,” Martin answered in his ineffable monotone.

“Finally, someone who knows a thing or two about cleaning,” ADA remarked “I have waited many long years for a gallant hero who would clean the shower.”

“Yeah, should’ve thought of that sooner,” Parvati agreed.

She put on her cleanest pants (well, recently-washed, clean was a bit of an overstatement . . .) and suit jacket, set the table and waited. The others went out into the city to hunt down the prismatic hammer Alex Hawthorne had once sought. Mayhaps she could use it to fight against the Board’s tyranny, avenge all the unfairly condemned, all the lives thrown away, all the people worked to death. Perhaps, if she saved the star system from starvation and oppression, perhaps then she could erase her guilt.

Perhaps, perhaps . . . no, it was no use to think of such things. All worry did was tie her down, tether her to misery and darkness. If only Parvati could escape anxiety by telling herself it was irrational.

In the late afternoon, Junlei came, aglow with a quiet sort of contentment. She held herself straight like a true leader, loosened hair forming a halo around her head. Parvati could examine that face for hours, like an exceptionally well-crafted machine. No, she ought to not think like that so much. Jun was no ruler or figurehead to please; here they were just two girls in love, each with a wrench.

Parvati welcomed Jun in, took her by the arm, and recalled every spare topic of conversation on the list.

Amazingly, despite the list being composed by May, Junlei had been interested in hearing about raptidon musk being used as aphrodisiac. But not trying it, that would’ve been unquantifiably awkward. And now that Parvati reminisced, it didn’t sound like the most appropriate topic for a first date. Still, Jun wanted to be together with Parvati, wanted for them to be girlfriends. Nobody had truly wanted Parvati in that way before, not after they understood she wouldn’t just hop in bed with them.

Now she had so much more than ever before, so much she could lose in an instant.

-

“So, off to find my old buddy?” Felix asked as soon as the Unreliable was visitor-free.

“Set course to Scylla,” the captain agreed “Do you have any idea why Clyde would live there of all places?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Felix wondered “Asteroids are really cool places to set up hideouts in!”

For some utterly inconceivable reason, May vehemently disagreed. Felix paid her no mind. It was just one of her many irrationalities.

Felix began to understand her dislike of the place when he, May and Parvati went out to hunt primals. He started to agree with her reasoning after finding out the upper limits of rocks a primal could chuck at him.He reached an entirely new understanding of May as a person and Scylla as an asteroid after a primal brute yeeted him into a marauder’s campfire. By the time he was forced to begin extracting leather from dead primals (since the captain had broken a wrist and Parvati had dislocated a shoulder), Felix was ready to write think pieces on the necessity of eradicating alien species.

Clyde had an entire secret base, full of tough-looking rebels. And an whole landing pad to himself! Could the crew of the Unreliable ever build one for themselves? The locals weren’t terribly friendly to Felix or May (Parvati had stayed behind because of her shoulder), but that was alright, he would impress them with his badassery in no time at all! The enclosed structure reminded the young rebel of Amber Heights, and he shuddered at the memory. No, this was a different place, inhabited by different people. Clyde would never become akin to Graham Bryant. He truly believed in revolution, told Felix stories of old heroes, dreamed of how he’d make the world a better place. Clyde couldn’t have just abandoned all that.

(Felix conveniently ignored how unsure he felt in his own morality at the moment)

“Took you long enough, Felix,” was the first thing Clyde Harlow said to his estranged friend.

“I was busy,” he defended himself “I can’t save all Halcyon in a day.”

“You’ve grown quite a bit,” Clyde appraised him “You’re a serious revolutionary now, so I thought to recruit you. I only accept the best, I’m sure you understand.”

Because back then, Felix had been just a foolish kid, and Clyde a mature adult. Because Clyde’s dreams were intrinsically more realistic than Felix’s. Because they couldn’t fight together then, two brave youngsters against the corporate machine. No, only Clyde had been worthy then, and could think nothing better than to leave without a word, dumping Felix onto Freeda Gordon.

“So . . . am I with you now?” Felix asked.

“You are certainly capable, but I wish more substantial proof of that, not just rumors and hearsay,” Clyde explained “I wish for you to kill a traitor, Rufus Trask. He tried to sell me out to the Board. Last I heard, he was hiding in the Emerald Vale. Bring me his ring as proof.”

“I can do that,” Felix nodded “see you soon.”

“I hope so,” Clyde said “Safe travels.” He didn’t wave goodbye as he had all those times before.

Felix and May walked back to the ship in silence.

“Do you think he’ll really accept you?” the captain wondered, after they had left the surface of Scylla.

“Think so,” Felix answered without hesitation.

“Do you want to serve him?” May pressed further “Aren’t you hurt by how he left you? Is your friendship really salvageable?”

“He’s changed,” the man admitted “So have I. We’ll just reconnect with each other, tell stories of our exploits, share a few cans of beer, that kind of stuff. Our friendship will resume in no time at all.”

“If you say so,” May sighed and began rocking on her heels.

“Something bothering you, boss?” Felix raised his eyebrows “. . . you jealous?”

“I guess,” she admitted. For some reason, it bothered Felix to see how easily he could look down on her.

“Well, it’s not like I won’t be seeing you around,” he shrugged “Maybe you and Clyde can cooperate, attack some corporate outpost together. And I promise I’ll send you letters. It’d be so unfair to forget you, boss, ‘cause I’d have never come to Clyde’s attention without you.”

“I still think he could’ve postponed his grand adventures a few years so you could’ve come with him,” May said.

“Oh, he was just in such a hurry to fight for freedom and justice,” Felix explained “Not like Graham or Annie, the sleazy sprats, who only rose up in defiance and ‘revolution’ when it was convenient for them.”

“I’ll trust your judgment on this matter,” the captain said “Good evening.”

Felix smiled to himself, as he often did, imagining a bright future with his rebel friends, both old and new. Such a fascinating new opportunity for employment, er, fighting against tyranny and oppression! Finally, Felix had found true allies who would never compromise, never give up their principles for glory or money or power. May and Clyde were true revolutionaries, no matter that May had issues with humanity in general, and that he didn’t know this new Clyde at all.

Everything will be fine.


	71. Family matters

Emerald Vale felt much rockier than the last time May had visited. Parvati had wanted to visit her hometown, and the captain’s wrist wasn’t quite healed, so Ellie got the glamorous job of accompanying Felix to find Rufus Trask. Besides, someone had to babysit Martin.

While mopping, May had the bright idea to clean Ellie’s room. Sure, it was an invasion of privacy, but the smell was getting a little difficult to ignore.

“Hold the mop at a right angle to the floor,” Martin recommended, trailing after the captain with a dishrag.

May then proceeded to fish out a porn stash from under Ellie’s bed.

“.....” the captain said, wishing she could unsee certain creative uses of spoons.

“Spacer’s Choice spoons are exactly the right size to shove up the ass,” Martin provided more reason to imbibe brain bleach “Not that I would ever know from experience!”

“Ah yes, the wonders of human anatomy,” ADA said “When Crewmember Ellie returns, I shall ask her all about the different uses of tongs. Out of simple curiosity, of course.”

May quietly deposited the stash back under the bed and stepped out backwards. If there truly were things man was not meant to know, no eldritch monstrosities had to be present at their creation.

-

“So, this is where Parvati’s from,” Ellie noted idly, ascending yet another idyllical emerald hill “I can see now why she’s so green in the ways of the revolution.”

“At least she’s not from Byzantium, where they intubate sticks up every ass,” Felix retorted.

“At least I’ve never tasted sprat meat,” she took the insult in stride.

“It’s actually really good, especially when fried,” the man defended his favorite food.

“So you say- wait, you’ve eaten it raw?”

“Of course I didn’t, poor people have access to heating anytime they want!”

“No need to be an asshole about it.”

“Says you!”

The argument quickly devolved into a shouting match on the nature of rudeness, insults, sarcasm and ADA.

“Who’s there?” Rufus Trask demonstrated he was not deaf “And what’s this about robots?”

Ellie and Felix, realizing they had talked loud enough to alert their quarry, shared a pointed look.

Felix cleared his throat. “I am Felix Millstone, steadfast revolutionary! I have come to end you for your crimes against the people of Halcyon and your betrayal to my fellow freedom fighters. Come now, face-”

“So Harlow hires actors now?” Rufus raised his eyebrows “Sounds right, he’s one big clown himself. Got you two fooled, thinking he’s fighting for anything but the Board.”

Felix moved to strike him down, but Ellie stopped him.

“Anyone can say that,” she noted “Got any evidence?”

“I do, in fact,” Rufus nodded “Stashed it in a vent near the armory. Records of Harlow’s dealings, payments and all that. I wanted to confront him with that, but, well, things didn’t go as planned.”

“How?” Felix asked “How would his crew support him, if he’s told them they fight for freedom?”

“Nobody pays freedom fighters. Nobody employs them. But the Board is always willing to shill out some cash for odd jobs. One marauder leader hunted down, another brought alive, a loan to fix a leaking fuel canister, then another to pay for new engines . . . that’s how the corporates remove rebels, one starving starship crew at a time,” the exile explained “Harlow’s big-wigs are all complicit. They can’t go back after what they’ve done. The underlings are deluded, just like you. They don’t know any better. And, more importantly, don’t question their leader.”

“Huh.” said Ellie “I never expected to consider my captain a paragon of morality, but compared to literally everyone else I’ve met . . .”

“Clyde would never become someone like that,” Felix said, staring straight ahead as if in a trance “Listen, I’ve known him my entire life, and he’s always believed in high ideals. He would never . . . he would never betray his principles like that.”

“I thought you were old enough not to think like that,” Ellie chided him “Because I doubt Clyde’s principles were ever challenged while he lived with you. But living as an actual outlaw with a crew that depends upon you? That’s different. Lofty morals don’t buy food and rocket fuel.”

“Quite so,” Rufus agreed “Find my proof, and decide for yourself if Harlow deserves your loyalty.”

“He sent us to get your finger,” Ellie remembered “Would you have a spare one laying around?”

“I’m afraid not,” Rufus shook his head “May I offer you this ring instead?”

“Oh no no no. Only authentic body parts in this crew,” Ellie took out her bonesaw “I promise it won’t hurt for very long. I studied in uni, after all!”

“That’s not funny,” Felix poked her in the rib.

“That’s what he said,” she cackled “before I sawed him open and removed his entrails. Well, if my friendly traitorous acquaintance prefers a long death from hunger to a quick death from infection, I’ll settle for a ring.”

The three dispensed some further pleasantries and ungrouped, each going into a different direction. Felix walked numbly into the hills, away from anyone who might see him. He couldn’t look at his friends, not after he was duped twice by those he considered his greatest allies. Would May become the Board’s pawn too? She certainly despised her role as savior of the star system. If she was offered safety, amnesty and her family back, would she stay true to her principles? Would it make her a bad person if she didn’t?

Felix didn’t know how long he sat there, in the shade of a green hill, staring up at the sky, head empty and filled with a thousand rushing thoughts at the same time. He knew only that there was a deep emptiness in his stomach and a squeezing pain in his heart. He had called a liar his brother, before Clyde had lied, before he had known he would lie. Felix didn’t know if that made it better or worse. Felix didn’t know a lot of things. Had Clyde known he’d become this person? Did he regret it? Did he want to go back?

Felix didn’t know a lot of things, but he knew that he had been outside for long enough when mantirays began perching on him. He especially knew that he had been outside for too long when they started eating his face. As he made his way back to the ship, the freedom fighter found out how quickly he could truly run. Even escaping from a malfunctioning sexbot with a drill gun didn’t give him such a boost to speed.

“There you are,” Ellie greeted him with a beer can in both hands “I had hoped I’d get to use your corpse for my experiments, but oh well.”

“Of course you couldn’t wait,” Felix eyed the cans greedily “Drunkard.”

“What terrible event has transpired to you?” Martin asked “Ellie returned alone, but was unwilling to give a compelling reason.”

“I don’t need your fake pity,” the brave rebel snarled “Leave me be.”

“As you wish,” Martin moved away cautiously, as if Felix would strike him for his impertinence. On second thought, the idea did seem appealing. “I hope you can deal with your issues in a productive manner. Have a good day!”

Felix shut himself in his room for the evening. Not even ADA dared to disturb him. He heard Parvati return and some shouting from the kitchen, but he hardly cared.

The next morning, Felix was the first to wake, and ate his breakfast in silence. There was barely anything left in the fridge. Would his crew go hungry? Would hunger drive them to forsake their principles in desperation?

“Do you wish to return to Harlow’s base?” ADA interrupted his contemplation of an empty soup bowl.

“I should,” Felix answered her.

(see what he has to say for himself. See if the evidence is true. See if he can be redeemed-) 

(it can’t be real. Those were just the ramblings of a madman. Why did I get so upset over nothing?)

(it better not be real. Clyde, if you did this-)

“Very well,” ADA said after finishing whatever smart calculations she was doing “Should I wake the captain?”

“No?” Felix blinked “I don’t need her for anything.”

“I have been lead to believe that she might know a thing about betrayal,” the robot stated “perhaps she can support you through this trying time.”

“Ellie told you everything, didn’t she?” he spat.

“Of course. We are, as she calls it, ‘buddy pirates’, though the only crime I have engaged in is hacking,” she confirmed “and law does not apply to AI’s or aliens anyway.”

“Then I hope you don’t go on a crime spree so grand it will make all the people of Halcyon outlaw robots smarter than toasters,” Felix suggested.

“Toasters, despite being artificial, lack intelligence,” the spaceship girl disagreed “However, I find them to be much more pleasant company than the vast majority of organic lifeforms, especially of the corporate variety.”

Felix gave her an amused half-smile. “I’ll agree with you on that one.”

The trip to Scylla was terribly uneventful (except for Parvati’s altercation with the bathroom mirror), which gave plenty of room for brooding. And for concerned spacers to bother Felix with pointless questions. He would have all his answers from Clyde. He would have the truth, no matter how awful it was. No matter if he liked it or not. If things came to it . . . could he- could Clyde- could Felix kill Clyde?

(no way to find out till I’m there)

When the Unreliable finally touched down on Clyde Harlow’s private landing pad (I gotta get myself one of those), Felix felt like his stomach was a clump of sparking wires. He didn’t want to go alone, and he felt like the worst possible outcome was a definite certainty. No telling if that was from nerves or the horrifying truth. No telling what he would find on Scylla. No telling if what he found would be true or not. Evidence could be fabricated, lost or destroyed.

“It is inadvisable to strike out alone,” ADA reminded him “especially in a compromised mental state.”

Felix bristled at her words, but took a few deep breaths to get his thoughts into order.

“I guess you’re right,” he reluctantly admitted “Is the captain busy?”

“I take it that wistfully staring out of a window while wishing desperately to get high doesn’t count,” the robot fell silent for a moment “She’ll be here in a minute.”

Exactly sixty seconds later, May skipped down the stairs, pistol in hand. “I’ve got your back,” she said “That doesn’t count for much, I know.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else with me now,” Felix walked down the landing ramp.

“Why do I keep inspiring such loyalty despite all my issues?” the captain asked philosophically.

“You’re very genuine,” he proposed “I don’t think you can really lie to me.”

(unlike Clyde. He was always a good storyteller)

“I hope I haven’t given away my allegiance to the wrong people,” May laughed “That’d be really awkward to explain to-”

“Shush!” Felix stopped her just in the nick of time “We aren’t alone here!”

“Ah yes, my famed sincerity,” her eyeroll was audible “Where would I be without it?”

“Dead in a ditch from overdose?” the man guessed, walking right past Clyde’s cronies. Stars, they looked like marauders! He wondered if he seemed like just some goon when with his boss.

“As if that fate doesn’t still wait for me in the future,” May snorted, though her tone remained unusually joyful.

“Was that a step too far?” Felix was let in by a muscular freedom fighter wearing nothing but a leather harness and one pauldron. How he fought the Board in that remained a mystery, though to be fair, May’s only armor was a helmet.

“Nah, I’m not offended,” the captain said, stumbling slightly behind her subordinate “Damn chest wound! I swear, if I had a bit every time I got shot, I’d be richer than the fucking Chairman!”

“Maybe don’t say that in a base full of tough dudes with big guns,” Felix suggested, wondering how exactly he was more intelligent that a genuine lab assistant from 70 years ago. Then again, May only had her word . . .

Felix stepped closer to the ruined vent, exactly as Rufus had told him to. His hands sweated profusely and he wiped them against his pants. Anyone could be a liar, especially such a storyteller as Clyde. What fantasies he painted with his words, how many tales he spun to cheer himself up when there was no work and no food, and the gangs ran wild! Truly, Clyde always found time to construct some fanciful utopian future, even in the darkest of nights and the bleakest of time.

Felix reached into the vent, illuminating the shaft with his flashlight.

“What are you two doing?” a local asked harshly.

“...!” said May, unable to think of anything.

“No need to concern yourself with us, comrade!” Felix lied through his teeth “I thought I saw a sprat run through here and decided to see if it’s got a nest!”

“Lemme check,” the grunt reached for the flashlight, clearly not buying the story.

“Hold on, hold on, I think my hand is stuck . . .” Felix maneuvered his fingers until they gripped a dataslate, turning the flashlight off “Ow! There!”

He pried his hand out, scraping the bottom of the vent with the slate. The underling cringed at the sound, but did not look away.

“Dammit! What’s wrong with your ventilation?” Felix pretended that his hand got stuck again “I swear, it’s sticky!”

He gave the flashlight to the crony, putting his fingers above the datapad to obscure it from view. While the local was muttering loudly about stupid outsiders and May was violently shaking her fingers, disturbed by the noise, Felix pulled the dusty slate out.

“What’s with the noise?” another grunt stomped to the scene, furrowing her brow and crossing her arms.

“Nothing,” May and Felix answered in unison, while the freedom fighter began complaining loudly about new recruits, which brought more people to the scene than the deafening vent sounds ever could.

After escaping to a more secluded (heh “secluded”) area of the compound, the two spacers silently reviewed the dataslate. Everything that Rufus had claimed was written here, everything that was supposed to damn Clyde.

“Do you think these are lies?” Felix asked May, a waver in his voice, as if she could somehow make the world seem good and just again.

May shrugged, incapable of answering him further.

“I should ask him . . .” he whispered in the vain hope that Harlow could invent him a story to believe instead of the truth. That Harlow could convince him to think something better than the truth, something nicer and easier to swallow.

The hallway to Harlow’s room was empty, though the spacers could hear faint speech and laughter in the distance. The base seemed so lively and vibrant, faintly reminiscent of Amber Heights. Were the people who followed Harlow similarly wretched? Were all those who worked under the Board partly complicit in the food crisis and death lottery? More to the point, did Harlow’s followers need to be punished for their complicity, because they followed him willingly, or did they deserve mercy because they were being lied to and mislead? How different was their predicament from true corporates?

“So, you return,” Harlow rose from his seat to greet the travelers “I take it you’ve been successful?”

“Here’s Trask’s ring,” Felix extended his arm, feeling like a fancy mechanical.

“Very good,” the local leader smiled. For some reason, he seemed very similar to Graham Bryant. “Your initiation-”

“Explain me this,” Felix said, feeling like his mouth was moving on its own. He took out the dataslate, distant from his body.

“Lies, lies and more lies!” the man answered automatically, looking like he’d been doused in cold water. Then he began shouting. “You can’t possibly believe this! We’ve been friends for so long, how could you hold such an obvious fabrication in higher regard than my word, brother?”

“We haven’t been brothers since you left me without a second word,” the actual rebel cut him off.

“Wouldn’t it be beneficial to secretly work with the Board?” May found her voice “Play both sides in this conflict, so to speak? Not that there’s any serious threats to our corporate overlords.”

“Brave of you to say, little captain,” Harlow glared at the relic of a better time “This is between me and Felix.”

“How did the slate end up in your own ventilation anyway?” Felix said “Maybe even your underlings are starting to suspect that something is up. Maybe you exiled Trask because he knew too much. Maybe you want to discredit my boss cause you’ve got nothing to say for yourself.”

“Anyone can call the truth a fabrication,” May said with a strange inflection “Anyone can. Do you have evidence to really disprove the ledger?”

“I see that we’ve grown too far apart, my friend,” Harlow shook his head, turning back to his childhood buddy “If you do not believe what I tell you. No, you will not be a good member of this true rebellion.”

“I’m going to show this to your people. They should know,” Felix said, feeling the lump in his throat grow “Justify yourself to them, not to me.”

Harlow looked at him with a coldness that Felix had never seen before, as if his former best buddy had been replaced with Adjutant Akande.

“I won’t let you,” he said quietly and drew his rifle.

“Stop, I-I don’t want to hurt you,” Felix threw his hands up.

“On your knees, both of you,” he continued “My trigger finger is twitchy enough to kill two.”

May stood, frozen in place, eyes wide like those of a cooked sprat.

“Listen, I’ll just walk away,” Felix pleaded “I-I won’t ever come here. I won’t ever bother you. You don’t have to do this.”

“If you do not trust my word, I can’t believe in yours,” Harlow stared at him impassively “Down. Now. I hope I won’t have to bother the guards.”

Felix was not terribly intelligent, but he knew what was about to happen: he and the captain would be dead, and the dataslate destroyed. Maybe he would be fast enough to- but no, that was his- he couldn’t just put a bullet between those eyes. If something didn’t-

One moment, Harlow was giving him that cold, indifferent stare, and the other Clyde was writhing on the floor, hacking up blood. May held the smoking gun in her outstretched hand.

“Brother . . .” Clyde gasped, trying to stand up. His rifle lay useless right besides him, having failed to protect him in the slightest. “Help . . . help . . !”

There was wrong, and there was right; there was good and evil. But there was also family.

Felix heard footsteps. They were closing in. He had no inhaler. Clyde was dying. He could do nothing, just as he could do nothing all those years back when he’d woken up alone. He felt nothing, not sadness nor anger nor fear. Felix’s mind was as empty as the void between stars, and just as distant from his body as stars from each other.

May shot Clyde again. Felix saw it happen in slow motion. The sound rippled through him, then he felt nothing again. Clyde fell silent. The footsteps were closer now, and more hurried. May took Felix by the shoulder. She strutted, then ran. His feet weren’t nearly as fast, stumbling over each other. More gunshots. Shouts echoed from every wall, but May was silent.

Felix tripped on the landing pad elevator’s edge and everything jolted into place. May pulled his hand, repeating a fragment of long-forgotten conversation over and over again, and he scrambled onto the ascending platform. Gunshots rattled the cage, sending it careening from side to side, dislodging some of the moorings. Felix dug his fingers into the mesh flooring, forcing scathing bile down his throat. He yelped as a bullet grazed his fingers, scalding them like a lit cigar. The elevator screeched to a halt with a violent shake, throwing the captain onto her back. Felix pushed her up, then stood himself, charging to his ship. Behind him, the lift dropped like a stone.

“ADA, orbit!” May yelled as soon as she was inside, gulping down air like she had just been drowning.

“I calculated that Clyde Harlow would not survive this day,” the robot said, ship jostling lightly as it lifted off “Congratulations on your continued existence, captain, crewmember Felix.”

“Wait, he’s really dead?!” Felix looked at May, really looked at her. She seemed the same as always. He wanted to- wanted-

She was right this time too. He couldn’t save Clyde, just as he couldn’t return to the good old times. No one in Halcyon was a hero. But a brother-killer?

If anything . . . if anything, better than a mass murderer, better than a company lapdog, better than a shameless turncoat. Well, that’s what Felix told himself to sleep that night, anyway. It . . . didn't work.


	72. Pictures on the wall

When the Unreliable landed in Byzantium, the first thing Ellie did was declare that she was headed out to the best gay bar in town, and anyone was welcome to join her. Everyone declined. The first thing May did was shovel the piles upon piles of armor from their footlocker, and fall facefirst into the floor because of their weight.

“May I aid you?” Martin asked, appearing out of nowhere like a ghost. Come to think of it, that was exactly how he looked. Perhaps he needed a few extra doses of vitamin D. Actually, everyone in Halcyon needed some extra vitamin D.

“You can carry the Iconoclast armor,” May pointed, gathering the other pieces in her arms.

Martin lifted the pile of metal and kevlar, only to be crushed under its weight himself.

“What’s the commotion ‘bout?” Parvati poked her head into the armory “Oh, I see. Let me help you.”

Parvati took the helmet and chestplate from Martin. “There. Now we can go,”

Martin trailed after her, seeming very appreciative of the aid. May hesitated to follow them.

“Hey, ADA,” the captain whispered behind a corner “Will Felix be going out with Ellie?”

“He has told her to ‘leave me the fuck alone’ approximately twice,” the robot answered, subtlety not her domain “From which I have concluded that he will not.”

“Keep an eye out for him, please,” May asked “I don’t know what to do, but I want him to be safe and not try . . . anything rash.”

“As you wish, captain,” the artificial unintelligence agreed, surprisingly quickly.

Nothing much happened on the way to Celeste’s parlor, a lot less than what should’ve happened to three wanderers carrying obviously dissident armor. Even the guards weren’t smart enough to bother May.

Celeste Jolicoeur was elated to see the wanderers not only alive, but back with armor and animal hides.

“That should speed up the creation of my new collection threefold,” she smiled “And such models! Rebellious poise, exuding character-”

The three recluses froze up in perfect synchronization. A pathological fear of being noticed could unite people more than anything, it seemed.

(oh FUCK if only Ellie was here)

(I never expected to miss her disruptive influence . . . but here I am)

“Well,” said Martin “well. I must caution against using myself as a stage prop, for I am extremely unattractive and-”

“You’ll look splendid in a helmet,” Celeste assured him, smiling serenely.

“Your orders, captain?” he looked back, drawing extra attention to May. His smile was starting to cramp.

“I could do it, I think,” Parvati stuttered “It’s not that bad . . .”

“Me too,” said May, because letting her First Mate suffer the indignity of a photoshoot alone would be wrong.

“And I?” Martin asked. His breathing quickened at the idea.

“Oh, you three have a dreadful case of stage fright,” the fashionista cast them a pitiful look “Fear not. We’ll start with you - miss Holcomb, yes? - if you would please put on this marauder outfit. Unfortunately, there’s only one, so you’ll have to pose separately.”

Parvati stuffed on the large metal helmet and donned the rusted armor of some poor junkie who happened to be in May’s path. He happened to have a gun too, but that was a far less noteworthy fact.

“How do I- how do I pose?” the engineer asked, staring at the nothing straight ahead.

“The flamethrower’ll do the trick,” Celeste chattered excitedly “Don’t tense up. Relax. Get used to the armor. Breathe evenly.”

Parvati demonstrated an excellent affinity for following orders, which would’ve no doubt been very useful, had she still been a corporate.

“Great! Now, how do you hold that flamethrower when purging a marauder den?” the fashionista encouraged “Imagine yourself entering a dark and dreary cave, full of evildoers. Keep the flamethrower steady - it’s all coming together.”

Unlike normal people, Celeste had a photo drone instead of a camera. May reflexively stepped back.

“Oh, it won’t bite,” the local smiled, then continued instructing Parvati on how to twirl her motherfucking glowing hammer.

After having Parvati pose in marauder bent metal and spacer summer clothes, it was May’s turn. To be entirely fair, watching a fashion shoot was actually pretty neat, at least the ‘taking pics’ time, because ‘anixiety placation time’ dragged on and on and on . . .

“Um,” May tried explaining how sensitive she was to cameras “Do not want robot close. Maybe put robot to wall? Will it work? Also, have to-”

“I’ll leave you to change,” said Celeste and dumped the heap of Iconoclast memorabilia onto the captain.

“It’s not so bad,” Parvati tapped May on the shoulder “You’ll get it, just like I did.”

The captain nodded, though still unsure. “Yeah, but I’ll have to take off my helmet to pose as a spacer.”

“Maybe your helmet will fit with the jacket,” the mechanic decided.

May shrugged and draped herself in an Iconoclast outfit. Her mouth felt dry and a chill ran down her spine.

“Splendid, splendid!” Celeste took May by the shoulders as soon as she re-entered the parlor “Oh no, you don’t have to draw your pistol, it’s much too small to look good with all this bulky armor.”

(a certain part of May’s mind laughed hysterically at that, but the captain herself couldn’t make a sound)

If she looked hard enough, she could almost see Betty’s reflection on the mirrors and displays, almost hear her footsteps before she showed up and ruined everything. May stood like a statue inside her armor, feeling like a sardine in a tin can, about to be opened up and scooped out for everyone to see.

The recorder mechanical was just like the one at the lab. Had one of them filmed her killing Andre Riviera and everyone else? Did the Board know? They had to find out sometime. She wasn’t exactly subtle.

The armor was like a coffin - hot, humid and suffocating. Was that how Andre felt, staring at her through the transparent plastic? May had looked like a monster to him, hadn’t she? May was a monster, wasn’t she, hiding her true face from those who loved her, ashamed of her own acts. What would Ann and Nate say when they saw what she had become? If even May saw how twisted she truly was, what kind of creature was she really?

“Relax, dear,” Celeste said over the haze of May’s thoughts “No one can hurt you here.”

The mechanical’s one eye stared straight ahead, sight glued to the captain’s head. It knew everything, and saw everything, and it had A MOTHERFUCKING LASER-

“I was there to protect you, cap,” Parvati, too, remembered “I’m not going anywhere this time either.”

May wanted to listen, wanted to take a deep breath and relax her muscles, but the mechanical’s stare was so piercing and the memories so close she could feel them digging into her, sharper than the corners of the ill-fitting armor.

The bot took a picture. The flash seemed to scald the captain’s eyes, but she rooted her feet to the floor, willing herself not to run like a pathetic, frightened animal. She wasn’t a sobbing child, clinging to the lingering shadows of her father, she was a grown woman who had lived through horrors she was sure would break her, she was Halcyon’s last best hope and no mere photoshoot would reduce her to a screaming wreck.

“Quite good for a first time,” Celeste fluttered closer to the drone “It almost seems like you’re poised to pounce, like a wild mantisaur. Truly, there is such delightful vibrancy in those dissident.”

“The armor makes you seem much larger than reality, captain,” Martin gave his own (extremely informed!) opinion “A viable scare tactic, if your apparel lasted long enough to test the effect.”

“You do seem very, uh, rebellious in this suit,” Parvati said encouragingly.

“No more,” May breathed and began pulling off her gauntlets “I am not able for stand around akin of this longer.”

“If you insist,” Celeste shrugged.

Martin smiled wider to himself, backing off into a cozy little corner next to the door.

“And you, young man, would look splendid dressed as a spacer,” the seamstress set her sight upon him. Martin looked back like a child hoping to get away with misbehavior. “Come now, all your friends have tried. Perhaps your constitution isn’t exactly right for armor, but you’d be quite at home in the wilds of the Groundbreaker.”

“I hope to never return there,” Martin disagreed, then realized he had expressed an opinion “But a photoshoot would never worry me, or course. I shall delightedly partake in your generous offering.”

May finished changing just in time to see her pet salesman poked and prodded by Celeste, who was very concerned that her model wouldn’t stop looking like a mannequin. Parvati was nearby, cautiously inspecting the photo drone from a safe distance.

“Does it shoot lasers?” May asked. The robot turned to look at her. She yelped and jumped so high, the ceiling was lucky to survive intact. Celeste and Parvati burst into laughter. Even Martin chuckled quietly to himself. The drone snapped several pictures.

After Celeste could stand up straight without shaking from giggles, she looked over all the photoes.

“I anticipated more,” she said “but what I do have is of splendid quality! You, my dissident friends, are quite shy for brave rebels, but fear not, you make great models. I shall call you back if I need anything else. For now, here’s your promised payment.”

May felt a bit weird for taking money from such a nice woman, especially since there was a shortage of those in Byzantium, but she needed every bit she could scrounge up.

“Where to next?” the captain asked her two underlings, skipping on smooth cobblestone without a care in the world.

“I read that Phineas Welles was makin’ some weapon for the last captain,” Parvati shared “Mayhaps you can ask him nicely?”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she nodded, then forgot what she agreed to. Oh well, Parvati wasn’t like Ellie, she wouldn’t make her dear captain do anything weird.

“You held out quite admirably for all your fear of public opinion,” Martin noted. May’s heart skipped a beat. “Perhaps you could reconsider your stance on privacy and reveal to the whole of Halcyon who you really are.”

“I-” May tried to refuse, but the only arguments she had were of her fragile feelings. The fate of the star system depended on her and she couldn’t even deal with stage fright to rally revolutionaries to the cause. “I-I have to . . . think. Yes, I’ll thought- think about it.”

“Mayhaps I’m too hopeful,” said Parvati “But I reckon that’d strengthen the cause, ‘specially after the death of Bryant.”

“I’ll think about it,” May repeated herself, pulse still thundering in her ears. If anything, the events of the ill-fated shoot just reminded her of her fear. “I should probably ask my boss first.”

“Yes, that seems reasonable,” Martin agreed “I can’t believe there’s now photographic evidence of my treachery.”

“You’ll get used to it,” said Parvati, because that only applied to her so far.

“Suffering is inevitable. Learn to pick your battles,” said May, although she never quite followed her own advice.

“In that case, I certainly hope I am more akin to the First Mate rather than the captain,” the negotiator said wisely “Well, I of course mean no offense-” and then made the even wise choice of shutting himself up.

In the evening, May went to check up on Felix. This time, she remembered to knock. No one was there. After running through the entire ship, the captain found him in her room of all places, staring wistfully at the stars.

“Do you think-” he began “Do you think we’d have to fight Harlow someday if he was still alive?”

“We might still meet his goons,” said May, completely failing to reassure anyone “but they don’t look like much of a threat.”

“I thought so too, once, that the Board’s lackeys are weak and undisciplined,” Felix reminisced “That I could win against them with ease. Now I know that they can wear the faces of those I love.”

“Corporates are still people,” the captain reasoned.

“Clyde isn’t. He was born outside the system, which never gave a sprat’s ass about him or me, but when going got tough he ran to them with his tail between his legs,” the man spat “And if I hadn’t gone with you, I’d have never known, and never suspected anything, and never met him again.”

“Ignorance is bliss,” May sat next to him “Do you regret knowing the truth?”

“The population is ignorant of the food crisis, but that doesn’t stop them from starving,” Felix retorted “. . . I don’t even know what to regret.”

He looked down at his hands, examining them as if Clyde’s blood would be staining them.

“Um,” said May, trying to talk to him like things were normal, trying to see her best friend without Harlow’s corpse right next to him “I was thinking that I could reveal my, uh, background so as to undermine the Board’s propaganda. There’s this movie where little me speaks, and it’s kinda still here . . . d’you think this will work?”

“Anyone loyal would see that as utter bullshit,” Felix said “Anyone dissident wouldn’t need that as reason to rebel.”

“I-I mean, surely there must be those who are being conflicted?” the captain sputtered “And if I is going to be leader of rebellion, or figurehead, or icon, I gotta have something provable to my story, right?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged “but I just feel you’ll be inviting assassins and arrests and so on.”

“It’s not like the Board doesn’t know I’m disloyal,” May retorted “If they’re smart - which isn’t very likely - they might already know who I work for. And that I stole from their lab and killed the people.”

May swallowed, trying not to wonder what it would be like to suffocate in an perfectly breathable atmosphere because you were experimented on against your will.

“I’m sure the Iconoclasts would let you borrow their broadcasting equipment,” Felix shrugged “If that’s what you really want.”

(to think I was once the pessimist)

(oh dear, what if he’s going to be like this forever?)

(all I wanted was to reunite two brothers)

(you always want to do good, May, but where does it get you?)

“I’ll think about it,” the captain promised for the umpteent time.

“An urgent message has arrived for the captain,” ADA announced.

May scrambled to the pilot’s seat while straightening her helmet. An unread signal beeped on the monitor.

“Who’s that from?” the captain asked, shuffling into the seat.

“Adjutant Sophia Akande,” the robot answered “Putting her on now.”

(oh)

(oh fuck)


	73. The talk that never ends

“Well met, captain,” said the Adjutant “Your ship is quite hard to identify, I must say.”

They had found her and she had nowhere to run. They had found her and there was nothing she could do. They had found her because she hadn't even thought to hide, because she had broadcast her revolution into every corner of Halcyon. May hadn't feared Betty at first too, thought she could overpower the little squirt if she tried anything. Thought the Board was just a bunch of fat cats and their brainless servants. Thought she could stand against them, a mere lab assistant against ten companies.

“....hello,” said May. Her armpits were so sweaty, her arms were glued to her sides. She couldn’t even look at the image, but already knew what was coming.

“We know of your involvement in the destruction of the Lifetime Employment Project,” she continued. May wanted to puke. “Do you know how unbelievably costly it will be to restart it?”

May shook her head, staring at the ceiling.

“And the Early Retirement Program? Have you ever considered the consequences of your behaviour?” the woman questioned “Has it ever occurred to you that your reckless, revolutionary actions are doing more harm than good.”

“Many times,” the captain answered through clenched teeth.

“Yet that has completely failed to stop you,” Sophia Akande sighed “Or even curb your enthusiastic support to the natives of Monarch and your master.”

(if only!)

The captain’s hands shook visibly. She was sure the adjutant could see that plain as day, examining her enemy, delighting in being feared. What would happen to her crew now? What would she do if someone saw her talking to this monster?

“Before you ask: yes, I know that you work for Phineas Welles. Don’t even try to deny it.” Sophia stated “This offense is punishable by death. However, you may yet elicit a pardon.”

“How?” May wondered quietly. She took a deep breath through her nose and put her arms behind her back.

“You must pledge allegiance,” said the corporate leader “by giving away the location of Phineas Welles.”

“Kill him?” the captain blinked.

“Not yet. For now, you must reveal the location of his lair,” Sophia declared “Send a coded signal from wherever he operates out of. We need to monitor him before acting.”

“As you wish,” said May, though her breath hitched.

“After you have fulfilled your mission, return to my office for an audience,” said the Adjutant “Until we meet again, captain.”

The display winked out, leaving May staring at an empty window, breathing heavily. She turned in her chair, hair sticking to the insides of her helmet, only to see Ellie standing right behind her.

“I-” said May “I just-”

“You don’t need to justify yourself for getting a call,” said Ellie “And I didn’t expect you to do the smart thing and agree. Now go warn Phineas.”

“By phone?” the captain asked.

“By holocomm, you moron,” the medic rolled her eyes playfully.

May hastily commanded ADA to do so, feeling slightly miffed she didn’t even know how to operate the communication network of her ship without her robot assistant. She’d had it for an entire year!

No reply came. The captain tried again, to no avail.

“His lab is quite nearby,” Ellie suggested “We could drop by for a visit.”

May agreed and set the course. Well, she let ADA set the course. It wasn’t like the supposed captain actually knew how to fly a ship.

“Hold up, won’t I be giving away his location?” the captain startled.

“I can assure you with 99.2 percent certainty that I am not being tracked,” said ADA.

“Well, if the phone ain’t working, we gotta warn Phineas by visit,” Ellie shrugged “Or snipe him with a missile launcher, if you want to live in safety and happiness. But I guess a simple life isn’t for everyone.”

“The Board will not get my family back. The Board cannot get my family back,” May disagreed.

“I thought your family were super evil and abusive,” Ellie raised an eyebrow, the picture example of poise (the captain resolved to never tell her that).

“Well, my adoptive family,” May explained, making the situation only more confusing “It’s complicated.”

“Gosh, who could have guessed?” the doctor blinked.

“Not I, that is certain,” said ADA.

The rest of the journey went by agonizingly slowly, as May stewed in her new, extremely hot armor, listening to Ellie and ADA trade quips. Mercifully, she fell asleep halfway through, not hearing the answer to whether a patient dies faster from an untreated stomach stab or an untreated kidney stab. Of course, the gut wound was much more deadly, that May knew, but to hear Ellie describe it in such a sensual, inappropriately detailed fashion . . .

The captain woke up just in time to hear Ellie telling the rest of the crew just who had graced their humble abode with a call. May quickly excused herself from participation and shuffled off to meet her mentor.

Her suspicions were proven completely unfounded, as May was violently reminded why she never wanted cystipigs within a ten-mile radius of herself.

“Hey there,” she greeted Phineas “I tried calling you, but it wouldn’t connect, so I dropped by to talk.”

“And here I thought you would simply assassinate me,” he smiled back “But talk? Now that’s terrifying.”

“So I was just contacted by the Adjutant herself,” May pulled up a chair and began recounting her harrowing experience “And she told me to put at tracker on your comm terminal or something, I wasn’t exactly listening. I know, I should feel grateful for not instantly becoming another floating rock in the asteroid ring, and bow before my rightful overlords, but my rebellious heart protests still.”

“I can only commend your dedication to the cause,” Phineas spread his arms theatrically “especially since I chose you randomly. But, pray tell, are you certain there are no tracking beacons or suchlike trained on your ship?”

“My shipboard AI tells me so,” said the captain “I don’t actually know anything about spaceships, I’m a lab assistant, not a pilot. . . . wait, you chose me randomly? You didn’t even make a list of potential recruitment criteria?”

“Quite so,” Phineas nodded “Now, I wanted to think over such a monumental decision more thoroughly, but unfortunately the Hope was boarded, or should I say Board-ed. The fine fellows weren’t looking for friendly conversation, so we parted ways very swiftly.”

“What kind of person were you looking for?” May asked.

“A meat shield, at first, to do all the dirty work I’m a little too old for nowadays,” he explained very frankly. The captain felt a little foolish for doubting him, but it’s not like she showed that! (right?) “however, I must say, you’ve far exceeded my almost entirely nonexistent expectations! I certainly never anticipated taking an apprentice, but change has come so fast after I set you loose, don’t you agree?”

“Usually at the speed of a bullet,” the traveler nodded “Or at the max engine power of my ship.”

“Of course,” Phineas regarded her helmet for a moment and May looked to the ceiling “Onto the more important topic at hand: you should absolutely send an invitation to the Adjutant. The comm terminal is over there. We can decide what the occasion will be later.”

“..?” the captain paused in utter confusion, er, solemn contemplation “How would that help the cause?”

“Let her think you’re working for her for the time being. The good Adjutant did seek you out from the goodwill of her heart, her kindness should be repaid in turn. Try to scramble the message as well you can, though. A revolution takes a lot of time, or so I’ve heard.”

“Took me less than a year.”

“Careful now, the Board is still a thing. Do you need help sending the message?”

“Nah, I’m good,” said May and proceeded to get bodied by a cystipig. She stood up, dusted herself off and found herself unable to find one (1) computer in a lab smaller than her childhood home.

“The terminal is on the right wall, in an alcove by the sink,” Phineas noted, after watching his protege bump into several walls.

“Oh, right,” May laughed awkwardly and began typing, periodically shoving away overeager cystipigs.

The message was sent. The captain stepped away. What would Sophia Akande demand of her next? Who would she need to kill this time?

“Wait, I also heard you owned a shrink ray,” May remembered sharply “Could I borrow it?”

“Where’d you learn that from? My research is supposed to be secret, you know,”

“I read the old captain’s correspondence. He was very upfront in the subjects he wrote about,”

“That would’ve been a problem, had his employment lasted longer. Yes, you can take the shrink ray. I’m sure you’ll get more use out of it than I, given your far greater death toll,”

“How does this thing work, though? Does it, by any chance, explode?”

“I left the instruction manual somewhere near the shrink ray. It should still be there, unless it’s achieved sentience and rebelled against me, as experiments are wont to do.”

“Not me, I haven’t even grown a brain yet.”

“How reassuring. But I must warn you, the shrinking is both impermanent and lethal. Unfortunately, you can’t experience being stepped on quite yet.”

“For that, I can just go to the Board.”

“Good thing you’re not into that. I might just prefer an organized revolution to solitary dissent.”

“Since when are those people who have the bad sense to ask me for help an organized revolution?”

“Call me a demented old man, but I believe that by maintaining peace with MSI, the Iconoclasts can actually become a noteworthy opponent to the Board.”

“I was thinking that too. Still can’t believe that worked. I promised to give them the terraforming machines from Scylla and maybe allocate some of the Hope’s experts there? I mean, the people of Monarch deserve to have a real, habitable home, not whatever inferior version of Terra Two they were handed.”

“That can be arranged - if my plan succeeds, that is. In order to begin reviving your fellow colonists, the Hope must be towed to a more accessible location. I had hoped we would have more time, but you must act quickly.”

“The less damage occurs to my ship as a consequence, the better.” said May, glancing back at where the previous vessel to undergo that particular voyage still stood “Where exactly do I need to head?”

“Let me hand over the coordinates,”

“Huh. So the lost ship has been orbiting Typhon this whole time?”

“As far as I know, yes. Quite the travel destination, don’t you think?”

“Are you talking about the planet or the ship? Because I certainly prefer the Board to inevitable doom. The corporates can’t even shoot straight.”

“Of course they don’t, the mechanicals do everything for them. Should just hire robots to manage their enemies, no? It’s not like the machines could possibly make things worse.”

“I suppose not. Then again, uttering any variant of ‘what could go wrong?’ usually ends terribly for everyone in a ten-mile radius.”

“I’ll have to be extra careful, then.”

“Yeah,” May checked the time “Gotta go now, bye. Don’t forget to feed the pigs!”

“Of course,” Phineas nodded “I hope to have no need for corpse disposal in the next few weeks.”

And so May skipped onward to her next adventure, dooming dozens of young men and women whose only crime was being conscripted. What a heroic, moral figure!


	74. The Dead and the Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I could finish this by September. Boy was I wrong. I hope I will end the fic before November, now, but nothing's certain.

The Groundbreaker was always the same: bright, metallic and bustling. It seemed so static, now that Felix had traveled on planets and moons. The sun never set, the lights never dimmed, the ambient temperature only changed in emergencies. Everything looked as it had so many years ago, before Clyde had left, before Felix had even been deposited on this cold hunk of metal.

“Are you going alone?” Parvati asked, hand hovering just above Felix’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” he blinked.

Slowly, he made it down the landing ramp, past the office of the moneygrubbing fine-men, er, safety checkpoint, past the endless hordes of shoppers (just in time for the ads to be interrupted with a news broadcast!), past the masked guards and skulking criminals. Bootsteps echoed all around Felix. Just for once in his life, he wished for the ship to be cold and empty.

Finally, he found the right place. It was a secluded ledge overlooking the landing bay, mysteriously undemolished despite having no real purpoce. Stars hung overhead, people scurried below. Felix could just spot the Unreliable among the sprawling mass of anchored starships. Once, Clyde would climb the rickety ladder to the ledge himself, not letting Felix climb up. Of course, Felix hadn’t listened. Luckily, he didn’t fall then, and wasn’t about to now. He sighed, flopping down on the broken support beam.

“Clyde, I, um,” he began, acutely aware that he was speaking to empty air. But if his brother was somewhere at all, then it had to be said. “I’m sorry things ended this way. I wish- we should’ve found an understanding.”

Felix rubbed his eyes. All he could think about were those final moments, as Clyde coughed up blood and desperately gasped for air.

“I had no choice,” he justified himself to the uncaring universe “You gave me no choice- I couldn’t have stopped May in time. I wanted to- still want to, but you dug that grave for yourself. If only you hadn’t pulled out a gun.”

Felix stared at the dark sky, stars blinking back at him. He drew his knees to his chest and looked down.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now,” he muttered “that everything is done. I wish you would’ve stopped before becoming the Board’s lackey. You could’ve been so much more.”

He tried to think about all the nice moments with Clyde, like the time they stole a whole can of Purpleberry Fries and had a feast, or when they saved up enough to buy a board game (which even lasted long enough to play!), but every single one of these bright moments was marred by the knowledge of what would come after, tainted by a future betrayal.

“Thanks for everything you did for me,” Felix said “You could’ve been a hero if you wanted to.”

(anyone could be a hero if they tried hard enough. Any one of them)

(it just takes some courage)

Felix turned his gaze from the familiar stars and climbed down a nearby emergency ladder. He wandered back into the city, feeling like a shadow among the streets which were once his home. He had never belonged, never been welcome. Even now, when he had more bits to spend, on par with the real residents, he was still an outsider. His friends made him feel welcome, and now that he had moved on, found a new group who’d have his back, everyone from back then felt so distant.

Felix paced around the ship, searching for Freeda Gordon. She had never been that close with Clyde, but still deserved to know. Felix had no idea what he’d tell her, and in his heart of hearts he hoped she could help him find peace. Maybe she knew something he didn’t, something that proved Clyde was rotten from the start. Maybe she could explain everything better, see something that Felix didn’t. Maybe she even had some old photoes of a past time laying around.

But Freeda wasn’t near her favorite club, or by the bedroll she’d wedged between two trash cans a year and half ago, or in the Lost Hope bar where she’d pick up guys and gals on her paydays. Annoying the SubLight tough guys at the office revealed that the bureaucrats’ workday was over (although Felix suspected for some reason that Freeda wasn’t among the paper-pushers). With nothing to show for his wanderings (except a snot stain on his shirt), Felix headed back home.

The Unreliable stood in line with every other ship at the harbor. It didn’t seem like anything special, compared to the brightly-colored scrap freighters and sleek cargo transport. Something would have to be done about that. Perhaps some neon yellow would suit the engines well? Oh, wait, ADA would strongly disagree. Damn her passive-agressive ways.

Below the ship, a woman stood, prodding at the great vessel’s underbelly. As soon as she noticed Felix, she straightened and looked him dead in the eye.

“Freeda? Whatcha doing here?” the man quickened his steps “I looked all over the place for you?”

“What happened?” she asked in turn “You seem down.”

“Clyde,” Felix breathed “He’s- he’s dead.”

“I knew all that fighting would put him in the incinerator,” Freeda Gordon sighed “Told him so, but he laughed me off. Sorry for your loss, mate.”

Felix chewed his lip, too cowardly to implicate himself in murder. His gaze fell onto the open toolbox Freeda was holding.

“What were you doing?” he asked again.

Freeda suddenly looked behind him and took a step back. Felix turned over his shoulder and spotted May approaching rapidly.

“Hey there, boss,” he waved to her.

The captain’s gaze slipped from his arm to Freeda’s toolcase.

“You!” she lunged at the woman “How dare you ruin my ship? She has feelings, you know!”

“Lilya Hagen sends her regards!” the local spat, then turned to run

“Bastard!” May shouted and gave chase.

Felix gasped, only just noticing the panels missing from the Unreliable’s hull, wiring jutting out like shrapnel out of a wound. He stared numbly as Freeda disappeared between the rows of ships, heart pummeling his ribcage. The captain returned to inspect the damage.

“Oh boy,” she put a hand on her helmet “I should’ve known Lilya was serious when she promised revenge.”

And Felix had been the one so eager to show Freeda his fancy new ship. All he wanted was to impress her, to demonstrate how serious of a spacer he now was - and he’d played right into the hands of SubLight.

“I hope Parvati can fix this,” he stared at the twisted-off panels.

“It’s the replacement parts I’m worried about,” May appraised the damage, pretending to know what she was doing.

Felix nodded, stomach sinking. Had Freeda known she was ruining his ship? Had she cared? Did she give a damn that she was ruining someone’s livelyhood because her boss asked her to, or did she only get paid? Did she give a damn about everyone SubLight stole from, everyone they stepped on? Was she just looking for profit by any means like Clyde?

The captain went back inside, dragging her feet behind her. Felix remained, staring at the destruction his friend had wrought. He wondered whether he should track Freeda down and talk things out, or if her actions proved the woman was just another of SubLight’s thugs. Was everyone fated to betray their ideals in pursuit of money, continuing the cycle of oppression? Was that how the Board perpetuated their corporate order?

Felix swore and ineffectually punched the ship’s hull. Why did this keep happening?! As soon as he became a revolutionary, all the good people seemed to disappear from the galaxy. Everyone who was supposed to stand for liberty and justice suddenly turned out to be a turncoat, or traitor, or hypocrite, or entirely indifferent to the moral dilemma. Felix turned away, feeling his insides burn, walking inside the now-flightless spaceship. He’d have a chat with Freeda some other day. Not every conversation of his had to devolve into a screaming match.

“I take it that you too have failed to stop the saboteur?” ADA said as soon as the door closed behind him.

Felix suppressed a groan. “That wouldn’t have helped matters.”

“SubLight has an entire warehouse filled with spare parts,” the robot noted “I’m sure one of their employees could offer some help with getting inside if sufficiently motivated.”

Ah. So May had told the AI about the whole ‘pissing off Lilya Hagen’ thing. Hindsight was an overworked front desk lady on her fifteenth cup of coffee.

“Too late for that now,” he shrugged.

“If you think so,” said ADA and fell silent, but Felix didn’t feel like he ought to just leave. He stared at the pastel floor, stained with mud and old blood and who knows what else. He owed so much to ADA, who had allowed May and company to use her, who always snarked to the captain but never stopped her.

“Hey, ADA, do you . . . was it painful?” he turned to the monitor.

“I am incapable of feeling pain. It is not part of my programming,” the robot answered “However, I am able to be disappointed in the actions of those who crew me.”

“Sorry,” he sighed “I’ll see if I can snatch those parts from SubLight.”

“It would be delightfully ironic for them contribute to the repairs of the ship they sabotaged,” said ADA “But it is incredibly unlikely for you to accomplish a stealth mission on your own. Confer with crewmember Ellie and First Mate Parvati before proceeding.”

“What do you mean? I’m the epitome of invisibility. Watch this!” Felix exclaimed and attempted to blend into the shadows in the corner.

“. . . are you aware that I have sensors on every wall?” the AI ended his delusions of stealth.

“Someday, I’ll show you,” Felix promised and skulked away, blushing slightly. To think he’d forgotten how observant their spaceship girl was!

“Unlikely, as any feats of infiltration you’ll accomplish will be done far away from me,” ADA destroyed yet another faulty belief.

“Whatever, killjoy,” Felix muttered under his breath.

“To kill joy would require something uplifting to happen in the first place,” the piloting assistant remarked “Which is as rare an occurrence in the last week as rolling a six on Spacer’s Electro-dice.”

“Nonsense!” Martin chimed in, always appearing out of nowhere whenever the great companies were brought up “Spacer’s Electro-dice is specially rigged to be fair. Roll the freedom!”

Felix gagged.

“Is something the matter?” Martin asked, moving closer to his comrade, smiling that overenunciated smile of false innocence.

“Everything that could go wrong has gone wrong,” Felix explained “Also, our ship is broken.”

“I’ve heard of that unfortunate business dealing, yes,” the negotiator nodded “On the bright side, plenty of things could still end in disaster! For exaple, your face still retains its structural integrity.”

“My face maintains what now?” the uneducated pleb poked his cheeks.

“Structural integrity!” Martin (very un)helpfully supplied.

“Fuck is that?” Felix scratched his head.

“The bone structure of your face, upon which rest muscles and skin, and don’t forget the blood vessels!” Martin proclaimed “Oh, I remember an educational song about the human body! Perhaps it would-”

“No!” Felix yelled “If you start singing, I swear, I-”

“Have a nice day,” said Martin and removed himself from the room.

Felix continued wondering what structural integrity was and why his face had to maintain it. He figured that Ellie would be able to explain things better.

He found her in the living room, packing up some knives into a bag. Where she had found them remained a mystery.

“What’s up?” she asked, twirling a combat knife in her fingers.

“What does ‘structural integrity of the face’ mean?” Felix asked, stepping closer to observe the spinning blade.

“It means you haven’t broken any bones or lost any eyes,” she explained “I think punched-out teeth count too.”

“Okay,” said Felix, still not entirely sure what to think of his face having a structure that remained, uh, integrated. “Where are you going?”

“Paying a jovial visit to the refined gentlemen of SubLight Salvage,” she patted the shotgun on her hip “It was a mistake to leave Eva Chartrand alive.”

“It was a mistake to work for them at all,” Felix disagreed “I’m glad boss didn’t stoop to becoming their crony.”

“Would killing one scientist of the Board really be such a heinous act?” Ellie looked at him from under her barely-there eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” Felix said, because when she phrased it like that, disposing of another unquestioning lackey didn’t seem so bad “But working for these ‘salvagers’ was a bad idea.”

“Whatever. I’m here to trash a company, not debate morality,” Ellie waved dismissively “You coming?”

“Sure I am,” said Felix and blew some dust off his grenade launcher “What about the captain?”

“She’ll start a tirade on the wrongness of stealing and murder,” the medic stated “so we won’t bother her at all.”

Felix nodded. May was very forgiving of corporates.

The two thieves set out into the night, or rather late evening, coming to the site of the SubLight office without any issue. They were let inside by an overworked employee, and immediately surrounded by a cadre of armed thugs, er, guards. With a jolt of fear, Felix realized he didn’t have any idea what he was doing. Not that it had ever stopped them before, of course.

“Huh,” Ellie stopped in pretend surprise “Is it just me, or was the front desk lady writing down some records into her diary of all things? Strange why she’d take such a bauble to work, unless she had something important to record for her own reasons.”

The five strong men showed the two to the elevator and walked away to harass the living doorholder. Ellie picked the lock on the storeroom door and slipped inside with her accomplice. The warehouse had a large door in the back end, and exactly one security camera off to the side.

“That’s what skimping on security gets you,” Felix whispered as he dragged a box full of wires to the larger exit.

“Whatever happens to the company, Lilya Hagen still profits,” Ellie shrugged, poking the lock on the larger doors.

“Unless something happened to Lilya,” Felix noted.

“Then she would aslo stop bothering us,” Ellie paused “Dammit, they marked the boxes!”

Felix pushed the warehouse door with his foot and dragged their haul out.

“I packed a bag,” the woman produced an enormous trash sack from her backpack “Put everything here and haul it to the base. Leave the boxes somewhere inconspicuous. If someone stops you, show the scrap and claim to be an independent salvager.”

“The guards might know me too well for that,” Felix muttered.

“Then hide that infernal jacket of yours,” Ellie hissed “And quickly.”

“Where are you going?” the man whispered, unboxing some metal in record speed.

“Problem-solving,” said Ellie and disappeared behind a corner.

Felix swore and continued stuffing the parts into the bag. He threw the boxes into a nearby alley, disturbing a family of sprats. His mouth salivated as he remembered how he’d hunt the little buggers and bring for Clyde to cook. Felix had never really learned that himself.

Felix soon found himself dragging a trash bag through a dark alley, with his signature red jacket reluctantly stuffed under his shirt, which made him look entirely normal and unworthy of attention. Unfortunately, the first cop he met disagreed.

“Nice bag you got there,” the guard remarked “Where you going?”

“Hey there!” Felix smiled his widest and most infectious smile “Yeah, it’s a cool bag, my friend just gave me! I’m bringing some salvage back to the ship.”

In the moment, he’d forgotten the cover story of having the trash chute break and having to lug garbage. Oops.

“I see,” the smile was indeed very infectious “Let me take a look at your findings. You know, to check for anything illegal.”

“Do I look like the criminal type?” Felix wiggled his eyebrows “Really? Man, my buddies are gonna laugh so hard after they hear!”

“So they will, so they will,” the unusually chatty guard agreed, opening the trash bag. Felix felt he’d charmed the man real good, especially since it usually took far less time for the street rat to be arrested. “Nice parts you got there.”

“Thanks!” said Felix. Oh how well-disguised he was!

“Unfortunately, your bag is filled up more than is regulation,” the mardet concluded “Ah, this rotary blade is obviously much too heavy. And this panel too.”

“But I’m carrying scrap, not trash,” said Felix, watching as the guard shoveled more and more precious loot out of the bag.

“Regulations are regulations,” the larger man barked “Just this once, I’ll let you go and only take the extra salvage. Next time, you’ll be seeing some handcuffs.”

The guard gathered the salvage, smirking as he looked it over. The presence of a citizen to apprehend and fine seemed to please him very much, for some reason. Felix took the opportunity to curtail it outta there as a free man.

The Unreliable was still where Felix had left it, so he poked the door until it opened and dumped the bag of scrap metal onto the stairs. The noise attracted everyone in the ship like sprats to a fresh corpse. Parvati took one look at the ungainly pile of perfectly good parts and scrap just strewn around on the floor gasped in horror. Felix, feeling slightly unpleasant for some reason, helped her carry the salvage (or “salvage”) to the storage bay.

“Where’s Ellie?” asked Parvati, after beginning to untangle an enormous heap of wires.

“Went off to kill Lilya Hagen,” Felix explained.

“She what?” the engineer squeaked “That’s suicide!”

“I am uncertain whether to applaud her bravery or condemn her recklessness,” Martin fixed his sleeve.

“You didn’t stop her?” May clanked her gauntlets against each other.

“. . . no?” Felix shrugged “anyway, Parvati, can you fix our ship?”

“Sure think so,” she patted the massive wrench tucked into her belt. She didn’t even need a hammer to smite her enemies. “Martin, help me carry?”

“As you say,” the nominal rebel agreed and heaved up a panel the size of his torso, bowing under the great weight placed upon him.

Felix and May watched the engineer and the volunteer drag the scrap out, unsure of how to proceed.

“How was your day?” May asked, stepping closer.

Felix was reminded of the times Clyde would just stand beside him and put a hand onto his shoulder, silently contemplating something never to be shared.

“I’m alive,” the spacer replied “and I didn’t get arrested yet.”

“That might change soon,” May mused idly.

“Let’s hope that Ellie doesn’t doom us all,” Felix nodded.

“Soon, this spaceport could close to us,” the captain continued “We’re rebels, after all. Dangerous dissidents. Junlei is supposed to be neutral, yes, but that won’t stop the Board from putting up bounties on us.”

“How come they haven’t done so yet?” the man blinked “I mean, it’s not exactly a secret that we’ve toured all across Monarch.”

“. . . it seems they want us for something, yet,” May explained, waving her arms in the air “the, um, Adjutant called me. She wanted to meet.”

“Wait, what?!” Felix took a step back “How are we not dead yet?!”

“I have no idea!” the traveler exclaimed.

“It’s a trap,” the adventurer kicked an imaginary dustball around the floor “Does she really expect you to fall for that? Don’t listen to anything she said. She’s just trying to frighten you into making a mistake.”

“An astute observation,” May noted. She sighed and held her wrist. “I talked to Phineas bout this, and he wants me to play along. I think . . . I think it might work to murder her on this meeting.”

“Huh, good idea,” Felix nodded, contemplating the ceiling “Yeah, that’s a smart move.” Despite this, something told the rebel that it wouldn’t be so easy to forever thwart Akande. He squashed that impulse, just like he had squashed every impulse telling him Clyde had been up to no good.

“What even is an adjutant?” the captain pondered “What does she do? Why does she act like she rules the world? Wait, that’s a military rank, how did it arrive in this hypercapitalist paradise? What the hell is going on??!”

“The Adjutant is Chairman Rockwell’s aide, and, for all intents and purposes, right hand woman,” ADA piped in to either clear things up or muddy them further “You may not have heard of her because she isn’t a very public figure.”

“Thanks, ADA,” said May “. . . I’m still confused.”

“. . . me too,” Felix agreed.

The two spacers (three if one counted the robot) stood around in silence, contemplating the floor. It was dirty. Felix concluded that the captain wasn’t very tidy.

“Who was that saboteur? Do you know her?” May asked suddenly.

“That’s my friend, Freeda,” Felix remembered “Was, my friend.”

“That’s terrible,” the relic of a better time nodded “She betrayed you too?”

“The second time this week,” ADA noted, reminding everyone how little privacy they really had.

“Shut up, nobody asked you,” May snapped, then turned her gaze to Felix “Why did she do that?”

“SubLight paid her, that’s why,” he spat “I showed her the ship, because she asked what I was doing now, and she- she just- did everything SubLight wanted her to. Smiled and waved at me like nothing had happened!”

“Everyone has to pay their bills, and rebellion is rarely profitable,” May said “I mean, we get by shooting at people’s problems.”

“We fight the system,” Felix disagreed “we kill marauders and corporates and monsters. Sabotaging our ship isn’t comparable to that!”

“So you think,” the captain sighed “but you don’t know what I’ve done. I stole drawing pad in disguise, and two guards lost their jobs because of me. They-they were sent to the cryo research lab, with everyone else. Frozen in tubes and experimented on. Then I comes, take chemical. I- they-”

May let out a hiccuping sob, covering her helmet’s faceplate with her hands. Felix blinked, letting out a sudden breath. He put a hand over the captain’s shoulder, helping steady her.

“That was the Board’s fault, not yours,” Felix believed what he said, but for some reason, the words were very hard to find “They made people into lab rats for silly little things.”

“Theft is no silly little thing!” May protested “I- I mean, you speak sense. I reacted over.”

“Yup, that’s the spirit,” the brave revolutionary declared “the companies are evil. We fight against them, we’re good.”

“Marauders fight against the corporates too, are they heroes?” the captain continued ruining the mood “Was Parvati evil because she worked for Spacer’s Choice? Are the people of Monarch Stellar evil? Should we fight against them?”

“They’re just being led on by their corporate overlords,” Felix justified “We have to free them. Freeda is different. She chose to work for SubLight, those mongrels. They don’t even operate within the laws of the Board.”

“Anyone could resing from their company, but nobody does, because they have nowhere else to go.” May crossed her arms “We need something to replace the Board. The people can’t just be left starving. Would you have preferred Freeda to starve on the streets? Odd jobs might’ve been well and good for you and Clyde back then, but the food crisis, price increases and political instability will make that lifestyle a death trap.”

Political instability. Huh. quite the fancy way of saying ‘impending revolution’.

“So what should I do then? Forgive Freeda and hug it out?” Felix raised his voice.

“I dunno, I’m no good with people,” May shrugged “I don’t think my family would agree with everything I’ve done, either. My brother would never approve of killing innocent people, even if they were in tubes and the Board-”

The captain tapped her fingers together, unable to put any words together.

“Nate, right?” Felix racked his memory. May nodded. “I think he would. I mean, you surprised me with that bit about the frozen corpses, but it barely made a difference. To me, I mean. Not to you. I didn’t need more proof that the Board was scum, not after seeing the death lottery.”

Felix never wanted to know what a field of corpses looked like, yet the image came to him like he’d just left the sham district. All the loyal corporates didn’t even know what their own overlords had planned for them.

“It’ll take them a while to rebuild, after our visit,” May put a hand on his back “We’ll find everyone who planned that.”

“We will,” Felix promised “and it won’t matter how many cute canids or little kids or regrets in life they have. If those people had any sense of right and wrong, they woud’ve done something to stop Early Retirement.”

“Not to mention how impractical the whole venture is,” the captain added.

The silence stretched for a few moments, before May sneezed.

“Now my visor is covered in snot,” she complained. Felix laughed.

“You know, I think that when this is all done, you should meet Nate,” the captain continued “You remind me of him a lot, sometimes. He used to say that the future was bright and that he’d become a hero of the Halcyon colony. Discover how to make skip drives so fast we’d have no need for cryo, or something like that.”

“Nowadays, I’m not so sure about the future anymore,” Felix disagreed “besides, I’m not that science-y.”

“Neither are I and Nate,” May shrugged “were I and Nate. What tense do I use for someone who is an undead space popsicle?”

“No idea,” Felix helpfully supplied.

“Anyway, I bet he’d love tossball. He always played those video games, you know, the ones that make parents blush and complain about violence corrupting their kids, Nate wouldn’t refuse a chance to brain some dude with a long stick and not go to jail,” the captain reminisced.

“Why do you call him your brother?” the younger spacer pondered. For some reason, he had a feeling he’d asked that before.

“Closest thing I’ve got,” May explained “It’s kinda similar to how you sometimes called Clyde a brother. I think. I just . . . I had no one else for such a long time. I still can’t believe I have a crew now. But sometimes I feel I latched onto Nate because I was desperate and lonely.”

Felix thought back to Clyde and his mood soured further. Why hadn’t Harow thought to stop before he sold himself for a few gallons of fuel? Didn’t he care at all for the principles he’d espoused all his life?! Was he really that desperate?

Questions, questions . . . and no one to answer them. Felix would be forever left futilely repeating them.

“So, what, you found me as a replacement to Nate?” he muttered.

“I dunno, I’m no good with people,” May shrugged “and even if I did, you’re much better to have around. I think sometimes that Nate only wanted to screw me, and I lead him on because I saw what I wanted to see in him. Not very smart of me, I know.”

“Yeah, I remember that story,” Felix nodded “I get you, I was a bit lonely too, before. I mean, maybe I’m here just cause Clyde told me all those stories about brave spacers and cool starships. That’s not very smart too. I think.”

The captain made a sound as if she’d begun to giggle, but then thought better of it.

“Yeah, we’re not the sharpest screws in the box,” May held out a hand “Or was it in the shed? Nevermind. But we can always make lives better. Even if just with guns. For the revolution.”

“For the revolution!” Felix cheered. They high-fived and Clyde’s ghost could remain sulking in the corner, as was his place. Traitor.


	75. Terminal velocity of plot

“Why are we returning to Byzantium of all places?” Ellie asked “The Adjutant’s private castle is the other way.”

“Celeste has something for us to do again,” May explained.

“I hope she pays better this time,” the medic shook her head “By the way, does everyone know that we’ll be having a diplomatic visit?”

The captain shook her head.

“Amazing,” Ellie sighed “I doubt you’ll even get close enough to shoot the Adjutant, not even talking about any opportunities to escape later.”

“Whatever, I can dodge bullets with my reflexes,” May shrugged.

At that, Ellie pulled a gun. And not just any gun, a space shotgun. The captain was instantly plastered over the wall behind her crewmate, before the bullets even began flying.

“That was uncalled for,” said ADA “also, bullet holes are not as good of a wall decoration as it might seem to you.”

“Holy shit, you dodged,” said Ellie “Sorry, ADA, I’ll get those bastards out. Sometime later.”

“Haven’t you seen me do that before?” the captain found the opportunity to brag.

“You’re too fast for the eye to catch,” the doctor waved her hand dismissively.

May was momentarily stunned into place while she figured out the metaphor. Ellie took the opportunity for revenge by aggressively patting her on the shoulder.

“OW!” the captain slapped her hand away.

“That hurt me more than it hurt you,” the older woman shook her head.

“Exactly,” said May and went to check on her armor. It was still mostly intact, especially the helmet. Most importantly, the helmet. Nothing else mattered.

The ship landed safely in Byzantium. Nobody tried to so much as search it. Adjutant Akande was placing a lot of trust in some spacers she’d spoken with once. It’s not like May was subtle about her involvement, with, well anything! She wore the same helmet here as she had on Monarch, why was no one arresting her?

Well. best not complain about such good fortune. Few intellectuals had arrived in Halcyon in the first place, and the environment didn’t favor the smart at all.

Celeste greeted the adventurers with overflowing niceness, a far cry from how normal people reacted to May. Apparently, some kind of gold label or table or ladle or whatever was required for the collection to be licenced. That sounded about right.

So, the adventurers went on to the mail building (for the second time in May’s career!) and Martin charmed the pants off the receptionist with talk of schedule and branding. No, literally: she invited him to her “fitness sessions” after work . . . private “fitness sessions”. Stamina training. Even the captain got the meaning, if only because she’d heard that line before (some things never change). Martin, however, looked expectantly at his boss and inquired whether she’d allow him some strength training.

“You won’t learn much with her, I’m afraid,” said May, to the great displeasure of the front desk lady.

She tried to get Martin to perform rigorous bedside activities one last time, but May’s helmeted glare quickly silenced her. The salesman remained none the wiser. Gold tablet acquired, the spacers moved out, quickly covering the distance to Celeste’s shop.

As it turned out, not quickly enough.

Two UDL guards stood in the boutique, tearing newly-sewn clothing out of drawers and wardrobes, stuffing colorful cloth and glistening chitin into 60-liter trash bags. Celeste sat behind the counter, brain matter dribbling down her chin, a chip of cheekbone teetering right above her diamond earring. Her expression was inscrutable.

“Laws!” Martin squealed “What did she do to you?! What threat did she pose?!!”

“Her planned collection was extremely dissident,” the man explained “Miss Jolicoeur refused to hand it over, and as such, will be cleaned out along with the clothes.”

The diplomat made a retching sound. “Couldn’t you have detained her?”

“When we informed her of the confiscation, she pulled a gun,” the second thug explained “Now, move along. You shouldn’t be witnessing such Philosophist travesties.”

“Fuck you!” said May and shot them both.

“My thoughts exactly,” Ellie nodded and sat down to sift through the illegal art.

Martin remained staring at the body of the photographer, unmoving. In her hand was an ornate pistol.

“Surely a dainty little handgun wouldn’t pose a threat to such armored warriors . . ?” he whispered.

“Any gun is lethally dangerous,” Ellie refuted his claim “and May just killed those two guards with a pistol only slightly larger.”

“Why would miss Jolicoeur resist arrest?” his gaze lingered on the woman’s caved-in eyesocket “She stood no chance. It was just a few pieces of attire.”

“Because she was protecting her art,” May turned to him, pointing at a suit on the counter “If I made something this good, something I spent months making perfect, then have some people come to destroy it forever, I-I’d fight anyone who tried! Every drawing- or suit- or whatever work of art is unique and it can never be made again! It’s not like a bed you just buy anew when it breaks!”

“This is everything she had time to finish,” Ellie patted the suit next to Celeste’s corpse “Raptidon scale, mantisaur chitin and primal leather. I bet it’s quite protective too.”

Martin moved closer, taking the fabric into his hands. They shook and he crumpled the shirt in his hands.

“What is so treasonous in this?” he regarded the soft leather “Why would a shirt and pants warrant execution?”

“Because anything done outside the Board’s supervision is bad,” Ellie looked him in the eye, and Martin flinced away “Because free thought is dangerous and goes against all of their techings. Because no matter how much you conform, some hack will still jump you if that makes him more loyal in the eyes of his boss.”

“That’s the Halcyon Holdings Company for you,” the captain continued “Keep traveling, and you’ll see much more of where this came from.”

“Overzealous,” Martin shook his head and took the uniform “utterly unprofessional.”

“Understatement of the century,” May noted. Ellie nodded.

“What do we do with the bodies?” the vendor asked.

“I’m not dragging corpses through the neighborhood,” the medic turned to leave “But if you really want to get arrested like Celeste, then go ahead.”

“You have served the system well,” Martin bowed to the late designer “May your great contribution to society be remembered.”

(is that how funeral rites work here?)

“Only the living can remember the dead,” Ellie remarked pointedly “the Architect won’t be of much help here.”

“Yes,” said Martin and donned the primal leather jacket “None can escape this dissident art now.”

“Looking good,” the medic nodded. May gave a thumbs up.

Martin smiled slightly and the gang moved out. The three corpses were left where they had fallen.

“Onto the more pressing matter at hand,” said Ellie once they were all safely aboard the ship. She winked conspiratorially and a wave of dread enveloped the captain at the thought of revisiting her conversation with Sophia Akande.

“Welcome back,” Parvati waved to them all “You look upset, Martin. What happened?”

May glanced at the diplomat. He was smiling the same as always. Maybe his change of clothing signified something deep and meaningful in Halcyon?

“Celeste was killed by the Board for promotion of dissent,” he answered neutrallly.

“Oh my stars!” Parvati put her hands over her face “She just wanted to make pretty dresses! It ain’t even illegal to hire mercenaries!”

“Taking inspiration from the Iconoclast or, Laws forbid, marauders, is cause enough for arrest,” Ellie extrapolated “She resisted.”

“The jacket you see on Martin right now was too provocative for their tastes,” May pointed.

Parvati inspected the clothing “Nothing special bout it,” she muttered “nothing special at all.”

“Exactly,” said May “someday, I’ll show them the real meaning of dissident art. Paint a dick on the Ministry of Accuracy and Mass deportations or something like that!”

“Accuracy and Morale,” Martin corrected.

“Defacing a holoscreen of the Chairman by giving him pink sideburns would be easier,” said Ellie.

Parvati sighed, entirely unamused by the discussion. “Does Celeste have a family?”

“Everyone has,” May felt a lump solidifying in her throat “I- if they live, they’ll find her in the store with a face that’s- that’s- why did I leave her there?!”

“Dragging a corpse through town would’ve hardly been better,” Ellie snorted before her expression soured “You’re right, she deserved better. Everyone in Halcyon does. Pity only you are trying to fix things.”

“Alas, if only we had known miss Jolicoeur better,” Martin lamented “but death is never an expected visitor.”

“Anything could happen to one of us,” May tapped her foot on the ground “At any time. I should write a well. Will, I mean.”

“Good idea,” Parvati nodded “All of us would stand to benefit.”

“It’s a good thing I have no earthly possessions to worry about,” Martin declared, although without the usual vibrancy.

“What about your new suit?” the doctor poked him in the arm.

“Oh,” said Martin, straightening the jacket.

“Chimaera, I think the label said,” Ellie remembered “You’re gonna be a symbol of the rebellion soon enough.”

“All thanks to miss Jolicoeur’s incredible work,” Martin nodded “Which she will never be able to reproduce.”

“Well, if I died, I’d want all my art nailed on every wall,” May poked the insides of her cheek with her tongue “So you’re doing her an honor.”

(does that really matter, when she’s dead?)

(do the dead care for the vengeance of the living?)

(does it make Andre’s death any better if you save the system in his name?)

(does it matter how much you suffer for the dead?)

(does it matter?)

(DOES IT?)

“Anyway,” said May, feeling like her other announcement paled in comparison to Celeste’s death “ADA, set course for the Adjutant’s office.”

“. . . you mean THAT adjutant? Akande?” Parvati whispered.

“Oh,” said Martin “Oh. OH MY FUCKING LAW, WE’RE ALL DOOMED!”

“Maybe not we all,” May began.

“Excuse me while I write a will,” the salesman disappeared, returning to full composure right after his outburst.

“There goes our smooth-talker,” Ellie noted “I’m sure Sophie the asshole will love to listen to all your insane rhetoric.”

“It’s gonna be an assassination, not a negotiation,” the captan corrected “We won’t need Martin at all.”

“Like that’s ever gonna work,” the medic rolled her eyes.

“If you feel scared, you don’t have to come,” May crossed her arms “Me, Parvati and Felix can deal with this without you.”

“No way am I letting Felix near such a sensitive mission,” Ellie abruptly changed her mind “Do we have a plan?”

“Not really,” said May.

“Could we borrow some of your knives?” Parvati asked “Those would be easier to conceal from search, yes?”

“Depends on how rested the guards happen to be,” the space pirate shrugged “You can conceal anything from an overworked public servant on their fifth cup of coffee.”

“Arriving now at destination: the Adjutant’s office,” ADA cut off their insightful discussion “Have fun.”

“Yay,” said Ellie, grinding her teeth.

“I didn’t know it was that close . . .” said Parvati.

“Oh fuck,” said May.

“I’ll bring my knives,” Ellie continued “Might as well get it over with.”

“Yeah,” the engineer echoed, though her hands were shaking “Might as well . . .”

The private landing pad stood next to a tall skyscraper which seemed more-than-vaguely familiar. May thought nothing of it. Immediately, two guards approached to escort the spacers in, and, along the way, remove all weaponry. Too bad they didn’t notice the captain’s concealed pistol or Ellie’s abundance of knives. Parvati, unfortunately, was completely disarmed. May thought of slipping a knife to her while in the elevator, but ultimately decided against. They could (miraculously!) have cameras. She had to conserve her time-slowing juice for when she’d have to snipe the Adjutant.

The office was located, predictably, on the highest floor of the building, with magnificent glass windows reminiscent of ancient churches. Shelves lined the walls and a desk stood in the middle, a computer terminal perched proudly upon it.

“Good morning, captain,” the Adjutant gestured at a chair “Have a seat, please.”

Five guards surrounded them, pressed into the corners of the room like shadows. Six bullets - May wouldn’t even need to reload.

The captain took a deep breath and dived into her power, forcing time to a crawl. She whipped out a pistol and aimed Sophia between the eyes. As the woman slumped sideways in her chair, the spacer stepped into the middle of the room, picking off two security behind the Adjutant. May turned sharply, blowing off the jaw of the guard standing besides the window, then shot up the man and woman at the door.

Time returned to its natural flow, the captain breathing heavily. Though her vision swam, she noted that none of the guards were dead. Parvati had the good sense to reach over to the table and slit Akande’s throat as a precaution, before they were on the run, cramming themselves into the elevator at breakneck speeds.

“Well, that was quick,” said Ellie once they were sent spiraling downwards.

“Thought you’d at least hear her out,” Parvati took a deep breath.

“I didn’t feel like sitting,” the captain shrugged.

She felt like throwing up right there on the floor. Her fingers shook.

The elevator screeched to a halt. Ground floor.

“Act normal,” Parvati whispered.

Before the doors could even open, a rain of bullets pierced them. The spacers threw themselves on the floor as the elevator opened up to reveal a veritable firing squad, all lined up.

“Dammit,” said May, vividly remembered all the talk of concealment not equalling cover back in the firing range. Gazing up at her assailants, she shot a woman in the kneecaps, and a man in his unarmored foot.

Unfortunately, the security being lined up so neatly meant they had to reload at the same time. Ellie took this moment to leap viciously upon the assembled corporates, stabbing one in the eyesocket, the second in the gap under the shoulder pad and kicking a third guard in the groin.

She was rewarded for her efforts with a shot to the chest from one of the reinforcements.

May shot down the last guard in the firing line. Parvati grabbed his rifle and aimed at an opulent chandelier. It crashed down, smothering three guards in sharp golden edges and cutting glass shards. One of them stumbled upright, but May dispatched her with a bullet just under her jaw.

Parvati foisted Ellie onto her shoulders and nabbed her flamethrower from the front desk. The attendant was cowering in the corner, muttering ad slogans. May took her shrink ray and blasted a man trying aiming at her from the corner. He must’ve been the one who Ellie kicked in the groin. Shame how quickly they got up. He transformed into a tiny gremlin the size of May’s fist, then exploded in a shower of gibs.

The courtyard was teeming with hostiles. It would’ve made for a deadly shooting gallery, had Parvati’s flamer been taken into account. She set a hireling on fire, along with a bush and a tree. The destruction began spreading. May reloaded, giggling from anxiety, and began shooting away at her pleasure. Most of the guards cowering at the sight of a laughing, bloodstained spacer of legend.

Parvati dragged Ellie’s body into the ship. The engineer’s armor was dented and riddled with holes. May followed shortly thereafter, still chuckling. ADA didn’t need to be told to get the hell outta there.

The captain looked at Ellie and her laughter died. The medic’s jacket was drenched in blood, her breaths were wheezing gasps and two dark blotches marred her shirt. May was like a child again, small and feeble, unable to do anything but watch her loved ones die.

“Ellie? Ellie, can you hear me?” Parvati tapped her shoulder

“What are we supposed to do?” Felix stared at her, eyebrows knit close together.

May took a deep breath.

“Bring medkit,” the captain gesticulated “Upstairs? From Ellie’s room, yes?”

“I’ll take her to the kitchen,” Parvati pointed.

“Maybe no,” May snapped her fingers “Moving with injuries harms. Put she down.”

The engineer moved to lay Ellie on her back, who twitched slightly, grimacing in pain. May arranged the wounded spacer onto her side. Recovery position. She knew how to do that. Knew. Seen before. She was copying it just fine. Just fine.

“Here’s the medkit,” Felix ran down the stairs, Martin in tow “Wish I knew how to use this.”

Martin exclaimed something in his own tongue, staring open-mouthed. “Our medic is down,” he stated the obvious after composing himself “What shall we do?”

Great. Another person to command. Two was overwhelming enough.

“What about bandages?” Parvati realized. Martin bounded right back up the stairs.

(should’ve thought of this sooner)

May rummaged through the medkit. None of the medicines were familiar to her.

“Auntie-ceptic is for wounds, I think,” Felix pointed out.

“Disinfectant,” May agreed, dumping the contents of the bottle onto Ellie’s wounds.

Oh fuck, did she have to take the bullets out? Was it safer to leave them in? Did Ellie need a transfusion due to the blood loss? What the hell was May even doing?

“Here’s a thought: maybe Phineas Welles would be a better medic than the captain,” Felix proposed “I mean, defrosting people takes some knowledge of the human body.”

“Huh,” Parvati nodded “Give him a call, cap?”

May staggered upright, Felix taking her place by Ellie’s side. He unrolled the bandages and began wrapping up her shoulder.

“Hey, ADA,” the captain began, but the robot was already connecting to Phineas’s comm.

“What’s going on, assistant?” the image flickered on. Phineas seemed more disheveled than usual, the collar of his jacket stained with something burgundy. “Did the Board commit another especially heinous crime?”

“Our medic, Ellie, is down,” May drew her arms to her sides “and I- we, were thinking if you could help. She might be very hurt.”

“Drop by, of course! I’m not that kind of doctor, but I do have experience with almost dead people,” he agreed “How’d she manage to get that way, if I may ask?”

“ADA, set course to the- the-” May began. The robot understood what she meant and plotted a path accordingly. “We, um, assassinated Sophia Akande. It hasn’t gone as well.”

“But is she dead, though?” Phineas prodded.

“Yup,” the captain nodded “Shot her in the face and slit her throat. No one can survive that! . . . right?”

“Well, if they’re put into cryostasis right after they just might,” he shrugged “But unlikely, seeing how the Board is suffering from a permanent brain freeze. Those great minds never got the chance to thaw.”

“See you ‘round, then,” May inclined her head in (what was hopefully) a gesture of farewell.

The screen blinked out, the cockpit seeming very dark all of a sudden.

“So that’s the famed dissident we work for,” Martin stepped out of a shadowed corner “I expected someone taller.”

“Bad for you,” the captain shrugged.

“I have to wonder if Phineas Welles is really trustworthy, given his reputation,” the man observed “Of course, I am not doubting your authority in the slightest! It’s only natural to ally with your savior. I’m simply pondering if he’ll outlive his usefulness at some point.”

“People aren’t Spacer’s Choice products, they don’t have an expiration date,” Felix interjected.

“That trust thing again,” May sighed in exasperation “I can never be truly, utterly and completely sure in anyone! Ever! People aren’t mechanicals, they can’t be programmed to obey you.”

“My apologies, crew,” Martin moved to leave back into the shade.

“You’re still welcome to share your opinion,” Parvati consoled him “It takes awhile to break free from the Board’s dogma.”

Martin paused in his stride and laced his fingers together. The engineer smiled encouragingly at him, in as much she could be encouraging in this trying time.

“In that case, has Phineas ever experimented upon human test subjects other than the captain?” the diplomat asked “I’m just curious.”

“Where would he get them?” May wondered “Willing test subjects, I mean. While on the run. No, he probably didn’t.”

“But if he knew the location of the Hope, he would have a shipload of free subjects whom no one inside the Board would miss,” Martin continued “It seems awfully lucky for you to be the first - and only - person to have ever been revived from overtime cryosleep with such amazing results.”

“I’ve never asked,” the adventurer admitted “Maybe I should.”

(he said he’d been trying to save us for thirty years. Thirty years of doing what?)

“Well, that’s gonna be cleared up real soon,” Parvati declared “I hope.”

Despite the captain’s overwhelming stupidity, she got the hint. “I’ll ask,” she promised, knowing how little that mattered. At least she could even espouse the ideals she championed this time.

The ship docked even more smoothly than usual, seemingly to not jostle Ellie. The four crewmates still standing promptly realized that they lacked any proper stretcher to transport her. Oops.

After conferring (read: flailing around) for some time, it was decided that May and Parvati would carry Ellie out very carefully. Phineas was waiting for them with a slightly rusted wheeled stretcher and requested that May accompany him. The captain could only watch, utterly out of her element. Sometimes, she would fulfill her purpose as a delivery girl, just as in the wider Halcyon.

May was no hero. All the real work was done by others, she was just there to mow down hordes of monsters and lug around important stuff.

“When will she recover?” the captain asked, standing besides a still unconscious Ellie.

“Before the Board becomes smarter, that’s for certain.In a day or so she’ll be back on her feet, if my prediction is correct,” Phineas looked down upon his latest patient “How lucky for us that Sophie managed to sing her own death warrant! I expected she’d board away to another system when the revolution succeeded, but instead . . .” he put his hands together and smiled gleefully.

“. . . the insides of her head were revolutionized,” May continued.

“Exactly right! Did she divulge any information before her untimely meeting with a bullet?” the scientist continued “And did the shrik ray work?”

“Um, I kinda murdered Akande before we began talking,” the captain shook her head “I mean, before we would’ve talked. And the ray shrinks, so I think it’s functional.”

“Good, good,” Phineas nodded “The sooner you can tow the Hope, the better. The Adjutant’s death will set the Board into turmoil - what better opportunity than this to fly right up to the ‘lost’ cryoship?”

“Will I face resistance?”

“Well, when I was there, it was uninhabited,” Phineas laced his fingers together “Only the perimeter was being patrolled. If they spot you, you might have a better chance of fighting back than I had.”

May looked to the ruined wreck that once served Phineas as a spaceship. Fight back indeed.

“If you are docked on the Hope, I mean,” he clarified “Then, the security - if they can be called that, given how much you alone take from under their helmets - will have to land aswell and sally out, where your merry band of rebels can do what you usually do to survive overwhelming odds. I’m still not sure how you manage that every time.”

“Me neither,” said May “I had a few questions.”

“Only the Board’s cronies don’t have any questions,” Phineas beckoned his assistant to a more private spot, further from Ellie “Shoot away.”

“So, I was thinking to reveal my identity to the public,” the captain explained, spreading her arms so wide she accidentally hit her finger against a wall “Because I has been kind of- kind of famous before. You know: Chenda Keo, girl raised by robot?”

“. . . Untold Stories: Raised by Robots, right?”

May nodded.

“That would hurt the Board, yes, though whether only its pride or something more substantial I can’t yet tell,” Phineas contemplated “I see very little harm in trying.”

There was no excuse if she chickened out, now. She had to face her fear and punch that sucker in the face, just like she longed to punch Betty.

“I’ll see how it goes,” May promised “And as for my second question . . . am I the first person you’ve attempted to revive from cryostasis?”

“Well,” Phineas put a finger to his face, suddenly seeming out of breath “not really. When I was younger, I attempted to resurrect the colonists. You can see for yourself how that ended up when you visit the Hope.”

(I should’ve know)

(should’ve known there’s no heroes in Halcyon)

“I’m alive because others before me died?” the captain asked.

(I killed thirty. What about you?)

“One hundred and twenty-four of your fellow passengers, to be exact,” he avoided her gaze “I wonder what could’ve been if the Board gave a damn. Would their resources have saved those colonists? What should I have done differently? We’ll never know, because only I ever tried.”

“Guess I’ll find out soon,” said May quietly. How many people had to die so that her self-rightheous crusade to free her family could continue? On whose corpses did she buid her life and mission?

“I hope I’ve improved,” Phineas smiled again, though not with the same energy “Improved enough to make a difference. We’ll learn whether your survival was a fluke when we get there. Keep up the good work, assistant.”

Sensing that her presence was unneeded, May tiptoed away. Any stealth advantage she might’ve gotten from that was circumvented, however, when she took Ellie’s gurney and began figuring out the true limits of her perception. Phineas brooded for a few moments, before he went to help, chuckling at May’s ineptitude.

“I see that your situational awareness continues to be great, as always,” he shook his head “How lucky that you have that superpower - slowing time, was it?”

“Yup.” the captain nodded “I swear, I’m a good shot in combat, Sophie’s assassination didn’t go very bad. If Ellie wakes up. Got no idea why I don’t notice things when walking. Maybe cause I’m at ease, so therefore unfocused?”

“Questions, questions,” he paused “I’ll tell you all about the other experiments when we get to work. Just . . . not now. There will be plenty of time while the Board implodes, don’t you think, public enemy number two?”

“Pfft, your infamy is so last decade. I bet I’m way more threatening to those inbred pansies,” May poked him playfully “Especially since I spend much less time hiding under a rock.”

“Inside a rock,” Phineas corrected, after he finished laughing “I hide inside a rock. Ironic how I can literally see Byzantium from the illuminators, yet they haven’t tracked me down after all these years.”

“What’s the difference between a window and illuminator?” May paused in front of her ship.

“Illuminators don’t open,” the scientist explained.

“. . . my ship doesn’t have windows,” the captain stared at her spacecraft.

“Never had,” Phineas smiled “Good to know I can still blow minds after all these years.”

“Me too,” May nodded “but I buy guns for that.”

Her friend smirked. “I trust you can carry your crewmate?”

“Sure can,” said the captain and proceeded to nearly fall under the weight of Ellie’s unconscious body. “See you round, Phineas.”

“Stay safe,” he waved, watching May ascend the ramp backwards.

Inside, Parvati was chatting up ADA.

“Set a course for Fallbrook,” May declared before she could find a reason not to.

“I’ll take her to her room,” Parvati took Ellie from the captain.

“Where’s Martin?” the lab assistant asked.

“In his cabin, writing,” ADA stated “He seems busy.”

“Alright then,” said May and went to get a freaking drink.

In the fridge she found one not-beer, woolly cow milk and vodka. So far so good, at least until the captain found out how the aftertastes of milk and vodka combined. Yikes.

“You owe your life to the dead,” Andre Riviera looked back at her from the transpariplast glass “All you’ve accomplished, you’ve done over the bodies of innocents.”

(I don’t have a choice. I’m just trying to save my family)

“You could always stop,” Andre continued “You could always do good, build, create, draw. But you just have to kill and maim.”

(it’s for my family. You would do the same for yours. Everyone would)

“Why are your relatives more important than your victims’?” he asked.

May pushed her helmet down and laid her head on the table.

(I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care. I’m not a hero, just doing what I can)

(you would’ve done the same)

(you would’ve done the same, and wouldn’t have been evil. Stop blaming me)

Andre Riviera quieted, though someday, he would return.

May sighed, and staggered upright to put the glass away. After she finished debating whether or not she was lazy enough to leave it unwashed, Martin shuffled into the kitchen and opened the fridge, squinting at the beer can. The can seemed to win the staring match, because Martin closed the fridge before long, collapsing into the closest chair.

“I need your help,” said May and watched the diplomat transform from a slouching insomniac to the picture of attentiveness and professionalism.

“What can I do for you, captain?” Martin tore out a page from his diary, positioning it as a notepad.

“You don’t have to ruin your diary for me,” she began, straightening the helmet “I want to make a speech, like you recommended. Reveal my past, prove the Board is lying and so on. But I dunno what to say.”

“What facts must you get across?” he tapped a pen to the paper.

“Well, there was a movie bout me,” May began, pausing to gather her wits before namedropping the actual freaking thing. Martin diligently noted everything. “Bad movie, but I got speak and face. Kinda. I gotta reveal that my official name were Chenda Keo. What other- oh! I gotta name my fellows, Nate and Ann! All that to prove the Hope is there and the Board lies. And that things can be better - have been better - and the future can develop outside the corporations.”

“Full names of your associates, please,” Martin said after he finished writing.

“Anastasiya Kovalenko and Nathanael Blake,” the captain recalled.

“Very well,” the diplomat pored over his writings “May I have my leave to compose this?”

“Of course,” May bobbed her head up and down “Thanks, mate!”

A stab of anxiety went through her gut - she was going to spill everything. And it would go horribly wrong, like things always did around her. Look what happened to Celeste. If she had been faster, if she had been the hero she claimed to be, she could’ve saved her. Maybe she shouldn’t have to watch that spaceship. Maybe, maybe . . .

The captain decided to go to sleep, lest she gain another ghost who would torment her in waking hours. In her dreams she saw the corpse of Celeste Jolicoeur come to life, stretching out her taut, rotting arms to choke the life from May, the dead woman’s head lolled to the side and bleeding brain matter. Ellie was there too, shot up with more holes than Swiss cheese, her ever-present smirk now a rictus grin, laughing and wheezing in a puddle of her own blood.

“Stop!” May shouted at her “You’re sick! Injured! Let me help you”

But Ellie didn’t listen, and didn’t stop because she wasn’t really awake, and never would, and she kept laughing and laughing and gurgling blood. May wanted to help her, but she couldn’t even walk because the blood was slippery and made her fall, and Ellie wouldn’t stop making that noise, that death rattle- and she would never stop, because May was just that bad of a captain-

She woke. It’s fine, she said to herself, patting the bedsheets. One-two, one-two, one-three. If she could save the other colonists- if she could save just Ann and Nate, everything would be worth it. They might not like what she had done, but they would be alive. Nate always wanted to be a hero and have great adventures, like the hologames he loved so much. And Ann wound want to dissect a mantisaur. And domesticate a raptidon. Yeah, May could see that - Matriarch Kovalenko and her army of raptidons, eager to feast upon the corporate menace, traveling the star system in their custom-retrofitted spaceship, laying waste to all who stood in their way!

Sometimes, the captain wanted to have her aunt’s aptitude with animals. For some reason, May didn’t think anyone but Ann could pull off a raptidon army, especially not a certain former junkie with a degree in Obscure Bullshit.

When the captain got up, she learned that she was already in Fallbrook and the hour of her proving (dramatic, much?) was fast approaching. May slipped on her helmet and shuffled away to find Martin. On the way, she bumped into Parvati.

“Ellie woke up,” the mechanic announced “She’s stayin’ put for the moment, an’ wants me to tell you attacking miss Akande with no plan, three people and one pistol, five knives ‘tween us all was a dumb idea.”

“I think we had more knives,” May, tilted her helmet “Seven, maybe?”

“Why are we in Fallbrook, cap?” Parvati asked, obviously used to questioning her captain’s orders.

“I . . . I have to get a speech and impose- expose, I mean, the Board of lying about the colonists,” May squeezed out “Martin is writing the speech.”

“Oh,” said Parvati, wringing her hands “Good luck, cap - I’m not sure I could do something so brave.”

“Just keep me from escaping at the last second,” May muttered “Is Martin up?”

“Dunno, let’s go see,” Parvati looked to the side.

She knocked on the door of Martin’s bunk. The two ladies heard sounds of commotion before the man emerged, all prim and proper and ready to service customers.

“Have you finished the speech?” May asked.

“Absolutely, captain!” Martin smiled radiantly “Let me read it out for your convenience.”

He put on quite the performance. May would have to read all that herself. Nobody would believe her sincerity if she made another do it.

After finishing the speech, Martin bowed with catlike elegance. Parvati applauded.

“Thanks, mate,” May clapped him on the shoulder “With this speech, I’ll win them all over!”

Martin looked at her, smiling excitedly. He didn’t even bother returning to composure, just stood there and basked in the glow of his accomplishment.

“It is statistically unlikely that one speech will have the effect you describe,” he said after a lengthy pause “but you do know how to make me feel better. Thank you.”

“Let’s head out, then,” May turned on her heels “Felix! You in there? Want to come to Amber Heights?”

“No!” Felix yelled back.

“Alright then,” the captain shrugged, checking over her pistols. Well, one of them was a shrink ray, but it killed people just fine so May didn’t really see the difference.

“Are you certain that using the Iconoclasts’ broadcasting equipment would be the most beneficial?” Martin wondered “As it stands, only dissidents listen to their signals.”

“I once tried it out with some buddies,” said Parvati “Felt exciting and forbidden, but we quickly grew bored. ‘Cept for Huan, he got shot for damaging company assets. Killed his boss with a fork, y’see.”

“Holy shit was that a guy,” May stopped in awe “a FORK? Man, even guns usually take several hits to kill!”

“Not for you, as I’ve noticed,” Parvati quipped back.

“What can I say? Having superpowers to slow down time helps a lot in life,” the captain shrugged “Anyway, it’s not like anyone but the Iconoclasts will let me borrow their equipment for something like that. Even if they don’t like me very much.”

“A good point,” Martin nodded with feigned enthusiasm.

The rest of the way to Amber Heights was paved in meaningless chatter and shot enemies. The party of marauding mass murderers received a less-than-warm welcome (read: nobody gave a shit about them). The guys at the radio station were leery of their proposal, but Martin assuaged their fears with his deathly-pale sunken face, empty eyes and nihilistic faked enthusiasm. The three spacers were told to wait until eleven (standard time) (how convenient that the hours are still the same as back home).

It was like sitting behind the door to the dentist’s office, except May could really die from the things she said. Or maybe not. How the hell had the Board managed to even exist - nevermind turn a profit! - for sixty years if they were THIS dumb? Spacer’s Choice literally advertized themselves by proclaiming their products were bad and Sophia Akande - the Board’s second-in-command, for fuck’s sake - invited May over to negotiate. May, a known revolutionary agent, affiliated with a known space terrorist, with a death toll in the hundreds - and Akande wanted to bring this criminal to her side. The captain wasn’t even that competent, all things considered.

The hours dragged. Parvati chased sprats, cooed over some sort of insectoid creatures (this time, their proper size) and bonked a wannabe robber over the head with a glowing hammer. Martin sampled the local brews, asking everyone nearby for pamphlets and gushing over the great and glorious Revolution. ™. May meanwhile keenly felt the absence of good paper, so she calmed herself by dragging rudimentary patterns into sand. It helped, mostly because it took serious concentration to drag her heels straight. Oh, and her missing foot began aching for no good reason (to be honest, there is no good reason for something that isn’t there to hurt).

Then the time came. May would be allowed to make her little speech. She had almost conquered her fear before, it would be fine. It would be fine. It would be fine. Why wasn’t it getting any easier?

May stepped before the microphone. It coiled like a snake, stretching out to choke the life from her. A lockpick to invade her world, a branch to trip on at night - the recorder, even in its base form, resembled the true danger it posed.

No, that was silly. May was a silly little girl who should’ve outgrown her fear and her childish spats with Betty long, long ago.

“Hello, people of Halcyon,” May stared at the paper, willing the microphone to disappear from her field of view. She was just reading. “You may know me as Captain May, the-the dissident spacer who’s been leaving a mark on the system. You may wonder where I come from, since there are no records of my very existence before the span- from before roughly a year.

That is no coincidence. My birth- true name is Chenda Keo. I was born on the 5th of November, 2262. As a child, I was featured in several movies, most prominently in ‘Untold Stories: raised by robots’.

On the 25th of May, 2285, I passed the colonist entrance exam and was inducted, er, admitted onto the Hope with two friends, Anastasiya Kovalenko and Nathanael Blake. Unlike what you’ve been told, the Hope did arrive in Halcyon, many decades after the- after it should have.”

May paused for breath. No one was there. Only the paper. The paper didn’t judge. “This knowledge has been kept from you because the Halcyon Holdings Board didn’t see the need to resurrect these people. Researching cryonics would be, um, would’ve been too costly. I am alive today only because Phineas Welles did not give up on us. All I have done since is to save my friends and fellow colonists.

I have no doubt that the Board had-has told many more lies. They are not the only option for Halcyon. Time will tell whether the companies can feed their workers in the impending crisis, but I will endeavor to find my own solutions. The people who would so callously condemn three hundred thousand colonists to a slow, wasting death while covering up their very existence might not care enough to put themselves to the test to save hundreds of thousands from hunger. And malnutrition.

Thank you a lot for listening.”

May blinked. That wasn’t so bad. That wasn’t so bad. She was fine. Wanting to vomit after a five-minute speech was totes normal. Exactly as normal as the ringing in her ears and the numbing hollowness in her head. The captain stepped away, already forgetting what she had spoken of. The world seemed very quiet and very far away.

“You forgot half the speech,” Martin said sullenly, falling in step with her “The better half, specifically.”

May flinched, gripping the paper tightly. Her stomach did backflips, trying to escape its envelope of muscle and mesentery.

“It’s not that bad, Martin,” Parvati chided him “You did good, cap. So much better than every time before, at least.”

“Huh,” said May, racking her memory. She actually hadn’t butchered grammar almost at all. “If you say so.”

“We should probably leave,” Martin piped up, glancing around nervously “I, of course, am extraordinarily loyal and dissentious, but there might have been a little misunderstanding with the locals . . .”

“Oh you eager canid,” Parvati shook her head “Do you mind going, captain?”

“Not at all, I have a feeling the locals don’t like me very much either,” the spacer took the excuse and hightailed it outta there.

In Fallbrook, May found a well-armored local trailing her party. Or maybe she was just paranoid after speaking in public. It’s not like she and everyone with her were wanted fugiti-

Nevermind. That gal was a fucking assassin.

May heard Parvati gasp somewhere to the left and aimed at the assailant’s visor. The woman moved deftly out of the way and the captain had to slow time to dodge the bullet. Well, no big deal, May just tackled the killer and shoved the gun up her- under her helmet. The woman’s head turned a nice, sugar-free ketchup red.

“Oh my Law, they got Parvati!” Martin emerged from the cargo crate he’d been hiding in.

“Oof,” said Parvati, dusting herself off “Nothin’ bad, cap. But we should go.” she gestured to the extremely pissed local staring at his now-overturned crate.

“Good idea,” praised the captain, grabbing the assassin’s weapons and ammo.

The three dissidents crammed themselves into the ship right before Monarch’s dawn, just in time to witness Ellie teaching ADA puns.

“Stop corrupting the youth,” May complained.

“I am older than you,” said ADA.

Parvati stifled a giggle.

“I was just about to get some sleep and recover from my serious injury,” Ellie eyed the First Mate critically “and you got shot literally the day I woke up. Literally the first time you left.”

“. . . aye, doc,” said Parvati, not very jovially.

May proceeded to her room while Ellie explained all the horrific ways in which the crew would die was it not for her contribution. The captain felt like she was overreacting a little (and also felt a tad strange, because it was rare for Ellie to be worried about anyone but herself). The relic of a more civilized era piled the loot onto the floor and began sorting. Most of the ammo she couldn’t use, neither could the crew. Finally, some money.

Then May found it. A motherfucking GLOWING SWORD. It had a button to activate the glowy fire (oof that’s like touching a hot stove without gloves) and May could swing it around and burn all her enemies.

Every hero needed their own awesome super-special badass sword. And it was still special, even if it came from a random thug in search of money.

May, of course, decided to name it Fireblade. She was, after all, a painter, not a writer.


	76. The End is (almost) Nigh!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit it's over. all i have to write now is the epilogue.
> 
> ...and sequel. yikes

The Hope was like a white pincered hand hanging in the endless void, rotating meaninglessly around a dead planet. It looked just like the Groundbreaker, only derelict and empty. May felt a deep hollowness at the knowledge that she would never be able to draw this moment, immortalize this lost and forgotten ship floating in the abyss where no manned craft would tread. As the Unreliable closed the distance to the colony ship, May tried to remember how the Hope had looked on that docking station above Earth, the pride and joy of skip drive manufacturing.

And yet she couldn’t. All May recalled from that fateful day was that Ann wanted her hairpin. The captain wasn’t even sure she had given it. It’d be nice to have it back, if so.

The Unreliable docked. May, Parvati and Felix proceeded onto the deck. Here, in the bowels of the empty ship, the captain felt even more like an intruder. She couldn’t believe she had come to Halcyon from this place, this husk of a future that never was. And never would be, because May was far too stupid to bring it about.

“This looks just like home,” Felix breathed “But abandoned and left to rot . . .”

“Huh,” Parvati appraised the interior “You’re right. Everything looks like it’s gonna fall apart any second now.”

“I don’t see that,” Felix disagreed, obviously knowing so much more than a trained engineer “But yeah, it’s a creepy abandoned ship. I feel like someone’s watching me.”

“Look, a camera!” the captain pointed. Now that Felix had mentioned it, she, too felt a gaze on her back.

“We better go quicker,” Felix muttered.

The wanderers barely made it to the elevator before the sirens began blaring and a spacefaring gunboat docked next to the Unreliable. Evidently, not everyone of UDL was fucked in the head.

Which was kind of a problem for the brave captain. Well, when all she had was a pistol, every problem could only be solved one way. The corporates blared out an order to disarm, then began piling out of their rust bucket. Felix helpfully supplied them with a grenade. The warm-up gift did them a lot of good, freeing them from those bothersome mortal coils. Those who scattered were easy pickings for May, who alternately shot them in the head and exploded them by temporary shrinking. Parvati’s flamethrower, unfortunately, didn’t have much reach, but she tiptoed closer through the shadows and leapt at a reloading straggler, smashing his skull with her hammer.

The rest of the boarding party perished soon enough. Logically, May knew that the best course of action was to nab whatever armor they had, but that was so boring, so tedious after all this senseless killing. She signaled Ellie, who had tiptoed outside from the commotion and ordered her to salvage the fallen. The medic immediately forced Martin to help.

May beckoned her crew and they backtracked to the elevator. Which was locked, because most of the power was off. Yay. The three weirdos proceeded to wander in the maze of rooms which seemed to have no apparent purpoce.

“My family will be with us very soon,” May smiled under her headdress “They’re right here! Oh my boy, I can’t wait to introduce you guys to them!”

“I’ve heard a lot about your brother,” Felix nodded “Tell me about your . . . aunt?”

“Well, Ann is a cool scientist, and the only reason I ever became a lab assistant,” the captain began, waving her arms around excitedly “She was my neighbor, and used to let me read all her books! There were so many! And she loved baking and taught me to make apple pie. Don’t ask what that is, ‘cause there are no apples in Halcyon.”

“What of mock-apples?” Parvati wondered.

“Don’t make me have horrid flashbacks of eating those things!” May shrieked in mock-horror “Please, I beg for mercy!”

“Aw, but they’re nice,” Felix batted his eyes, feigning innocence even while a wide smirk crept across his face “Don’t discriminate against local foods!”

Parvati snorted into her gauntlet.

May made an elaborate choking sound. Probably too elaborate, as it left her coughing and gagging.

“Do you really think the dimethyl sulfoxide we got will be enough?” Parvati wondered quietly “For all those people?”

“Hell if I know,” said May “Besides, I get the feeling not everyone survived intact. Phineas told me he killed some passengers himself when he failed to revive them.”

“He killed the innocent people he was supposed to save?” Felix raised his voice “Honestly, after Bryant and Harlow, I’m not even surprised anymore!”

“Oh stars . . .” Parvati shook her head, dropping her gaze to the floor.

“I’m here now because they died,” May looked up at the white arches of the hallway “Their deaths gave Phineas enough knowledge to save me. He wouldn’t have needed some random lab assistant if his first test subjects had lived.”

(even then, you’re only alive because he picked at random. How does it feel to be so useless, captain?)

(very good, actually. I have a flaming sword)

“That’s disgusting,” Felix curled his lip “You benefited from their deaths, when you weren’t even awake yet.”

“When you put it like that, makes it seem like I’m some kinda victim,” May noted.

“Guess it does,” Parvati looked back.

A mechanical jumped out from a wall alcove. May froze, hand halfway to her belt, while Parvati smashed the creature into a scrap pancake.

The three spacers filed into a room. It was filled with medical equipment and stacked-together cryopods.

“Oh,” said Parvati “It’s a mass grave.”

“Not really,” said Felix “The caskets are empty.”

“Those are cryopods,” May corrected.

The power switch was on the terminal in the far end. How that worked, the captain wasn’t sure, but the lights flickered on and began sparking in several colors.

The vacant pods glimmered in the blue light, the fine patterns on the lid not even rusting. Each little coffin was someone’s destroyed future, a promise of a better life broken. And it wasn’t the Board that had given them the nothingness of death instead of a brave new world in the far-off stars, but Phineas, the only one who wanted to give the colonists back their lives.

May wondered if it was better to be freed in death or to forever dream in confinement, until the lights winked out a decade, two decades, a century later. The outcome was still the same. Only she had ever lived to tell of the Hope, so her perspective was a little biased. What would the hundred and twenty-three who didn’t miraculously revive think, if they still could?

“This place is depressing,” Felix bemoaned “Let’s go to the bridge now and fly this thing.”

May beckoned Parvati, who had been staring at the cryopods with concern and they moved out. The captain passed a table upon which rested a whole assortment of baubles, from a prosthetic hip to a red hairpin. She didn’t know Phineas kept trophies from his kills. May was about to examine a metal tooth next to a glint of something orange, but thought better of disturbing the grisly memorial.

Andre Riviera lurked in the alcoves and shadows, hands outstretched towards the captain. If she lost focus, she could hear the banging against the glass.

The bridge wasn’t that far, only took four mechanical jumpscares to get there. The shipboard AI of the Hope (oh cool! didn’t know it had one) was less than pleased with being roused from such a comfortable orbit, but ADA subdued the bastard, hijacked his ship and yeeted it into the rings of Earth 2.0. Miraculously, they didn’t bump into any of the literal billions of tiny objects floating there.

“Good we’re here,” May dusted herself off “Now I just gotta report to Phineas.”

“Man, why does everyone gutsy enough to do something about a certain glaring problem we all have end up being some kind of evil hypocrite?” Felix threw his hands up “Literally every rebel leader we’ve met is some kind of massive asshole, why does this keep happening?!”

“Halcyon makes monsters of us all,” Parvati waxed philosophically.

“Says the adorable cinnamon roll,” Felix eyed her sceptically.

“I’m not so innocent as I look,” the engineer sighed “I was there when cap killed blameless test subjects for the chemical.”

“And I was the one who decided to do that,” May added “Without even knowing for sure if the Hope can be saved.”

“You were just forced by the Board to do bad things,” Felix disagreed.

“That’s what Graham Bryant told himself every night,” the captain said “He didn’t want to massacre the people of Amber Heights, he just had to form a rebellion against a Board!”

“That’s different!” Felix shouted “Don’t make equate Parvati to him!”

(she always let me make the hard choices. Let me choose to destroy the deserters, let me negotiate a peace on Monarch, let me kill-)

“I was talking about myself,” May explained “She was just following my lead.”

“I’m not some lackey, captain,” Parvati retorted “If I thought you evil, I wouldn’t follow you.”

“But you worked for Spacer’s Choice,” the captain looked back “Wait, I don’t mean that you’re evil, and I’d have done the same in your place, but Spacer’s Choice are stupid and pointlessly cruel.”

“They’re my family,” Parvati said quietly “You wouldn’t understand, cap.”

(they killed your father and you could only watch)

“No, I don’t,” May stepped onto the landing ramp, boots clanging against the metal “I’m just a motherless monster turned against her own kind, slaughtering without compassion or care.”

Parvati stopped behind her.

“Wait, that was very rude,” the captain smiled serenely into the empty air “Sorry, Parvati. I’ll see myself out.”

“Attempting to contact Phineas Welles now,” ADA announced as soon as the door clicked shut.

May waited obediently for the words of her lord and master like a true corporate. Her clothing felt hotter than usual.

“Error. Unable to connect to comm,” ADA broke the silence “Retrying.”

“Error. Unable to connect,” ADA said again “The location is unavailable.”

“Offline?” the captain guessed.

“Unavailable means there’s no location to connect to,” Parvati corrected.

May blinked.

“Set course for Phineas’s lab,” she ordered.

Her brain felt congested. ‘What am I going to do?’ ‘what am I going to do?’ it repeated on an endless loop.

They docked. May scrambled out, holding her pistol at the ready. A nagging voice in the back of her mind told her it was wrong to barge into this place with a gun, wrong, it was not supposed to happen-

All May found was an empty lab, the corpse of a cystipig on a table and a dead corporate on the floor, two more pigs rushing towards the sudden visitor. It wasn’t supposed to be empty, that was impossible, the signal was coded-

“Hey there,” May greeted the animals, who seemed insistent on knocking her over “Hungry much?”

“Oh, they’re adorable,” Parvati cooed. Then she saw the sorry state of the lab. “Oh dear. Oh stars.”

“Don’t worry bout the animals, they had a good meal of Unlucky Recruit here,” Ellie pointed to the corpse, which, now that May paid attention, had some vital pieces missing.

“Can - Ellie - you date corpses?” the captain asked.

(while I was telling that stupid speech-)

As she came closer, the smell started to waft in. Phineas was supposed to be here. What had May done wrong this time?

(don’t act so surprised. Everyone always leaves you)

“I’ve seen my fair share, can certainly try,” Ellie shrugged and knelt next to the pile of armor and half-eaten gibs.

“I saw Phineas for before time two days, um, five hours ago? But it have been two days, I know definitely,” May (un)helpfully supplied. Or maybe it was a week, three weeks, a month. When could May ever be trusted to get anything right?

“This person died more than twelve hours ago,” Ellie proclaimed her verdict “Maybe more than a day.”

(this is all your fault. This is all your fault, you’re supposed to fight the Board, you should’ve stopped them-)

“Would looking in dead pig be useful more?” the captain pointed.

(nobody can save your mother now, May)

“Who knows?” the medic shrugged, but obediently sauntered over to the dead animal.

(I didn’t do anything wrong! I didn’t disagree, or disobey, or get my own stupid ideas-)

(I’m never gonna see Phineas again)

(I’m never gonna see him again and all my family will be dead)

(and Andre will have died for nothing. Nothing! Nothing at all!!!)

“Once again, this was probably here for a day or more,” Ellie declared after a lot of poking and cutting “By the way, your boss left a little something for you. Catch!”

The mad doctor sent a little tube through the air. May caught and uncorked the thing, fishing out a strip of paper.

“Some number sequence,” the captain mumbled.

“There’s a computer right behind you,” Ellie helpfully notified her.

“Oh,” said May and tried out the password. Luckily for her, it worked. She accessed the latest messages and opened a secret compartment. A pity Phineas hadn’t left her any instructions.

(stupid child, can’t take a step without your lord and master. Well, he’s gone now! What are you gonna do, cry about it?!)

Inside, among an assortment of much more innocuous objects, was a navkey to Tartarus.

“What’s that?” May asked “Mountain resort?”

“The highest-security prison in the galaxy,” Ellie intoned “The only place where Phineas Welles could ever be interred alive. Also has an assortment of lovely torture rooms.”

(oh. OH FUCK)

“How he got it?” the captain held the cylinder in her hands. It didn’t look different from the ordinary navkey at all.

“I wasn’t there, I have no idea,” the medic huffed “He likely procured it expecting capture.”

“And a friend to bail him out,” May stared straight ahead.

(do something, do something, don’t waste your time, do something-)

The captain ran back to her ship, forgetting about Ellie and Parvati entirely. May put the navkey into the proper slot and ADA processed it, adding a travel destination.

“If you are scanning such an item, I take it that terrible things have happened to your employer,” the robot noted “My condolences, captain.”

“ADA, set course . . . set to . . .” May began.

“I suggest conferring with your crew first,” the AI encouraged firmly “Have a seat at the dinner table, I’ll call the others.”

The captain limped to the kitchen, her knees weak and hands shaking. She put her helmet onto the smooth surface and listened to the ticking of the old-timey clock.

(how can you sit here, idle, while they’re doing horrible things to Phineas? You know the companies will stop at nothing when it comes to their enemies! You saw what happened to Celeste!)

“We’re going to attack Tartarus to free Phineas?” Parvati walked into the room.

May raised her head and nodded.

“Shouldn’t we find some reinforcements?” the engineer suggested.

“Who would kill themselves for us?” Ellie shot the thought down “All I hope for is that we can escape afterwards.”

“I am capable of dodging anti-spacecraft missiles,” said ADA “Although it has been three years since I last used this ability.”

“Sounds badass,” the medic quirked herr eyebrows, nodding “Tell me more later.”

“As you wish, medic,” the AI agreed.

“Let’s go and save the colonists!” Felix declared “What are we waiting for?”

“Yeah, we should hurry,” Parvati agreed “We-we’ll figure things out on the way.”

“Whatever,” said Ellie “I’ll hang out inside while you do your heroic rescue thing.”

Martin came into the room, holding his diary.

“Hello, crew,” he smiled “What are we discussing today?”

“We’re assaulting Tartarus,” May filled him in on all the new information.

“That’s impossible,” Martin gave her a friendly side-eye “You are not doing that.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be staying inside,” Felix reassured him “with Ellie.”

“You are not doing that,” the diplomat continued “You are not suicidal. You are not doing that.”

“Yes we are. Nobody can’t convince me to stop,” May declared “I have to save Phineas.”

“You have to save yourself,” said Martin. “And your crew,” he added as an afterthought.

“Listen, buddy, I don’t know what you’ve been taught by your masters, but that’s not how things work here,” Felix interjected coldly “Phineas is our ally, and we’re getting him out of trouble just like we would for any of our crewmates if something happened to them. Even you.”

“Don’t take that as an excuse to get in trouble,” Ellie added offhandedly.

“Oh Law. None of you understand, not a single one!” Martin giggle hysterically “You’re charging into Tartarus, the most heavily-fortified prison in the galaxy! You are doing exactly what the Board wants you two: getting into position to be killed! Oh my Law, the Board wants you to attempt a rescue! Why else would they capture Phineas alive? Law preserve our souls . . .”

“Facility Alpha is the most secure prison in the galaxy,” Ellie corrected.

“It’s okay to be afraid, Martin,” Parvati consoled him “Someday, you’ll be desensitized to all the violence and cope better with stress.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. You all are too used to daring escapes and escaping danger by a hair that you don’t care for the odds!” Martin raised his voice “Do you want to kill your crew, captain? Do you want to?! You are throwing away the revolution for the possible safety of one man - possible safety you cannot guarantee!”

“We’re doing what we have to,” Ellie stopped him “And it’ll be a tale to tell.”

“Mr. Welles is the lynchpin of the whole plot,” Parvati added “Now I wish he wasn’t so secretive, but we have to get him back.”

“There’s no other way to save my family,” May stared straight at Martin.

“And the colonists,” Felix added.

“Stop this madness! Stop! You have too much value to simply waste,” the man continued to plead hysterically “This crew does not contain disposable assets! Do not squander our success! Turn around while you still can!”

“Sorry, man, but the majority thinks you’re an idiot,” Felix said “So you’re voted out.”

“Thanks for contributing to the discussion,” Ellie gave him a grain of gratitude.

“We’ll stay safe, don’t worry,” Parvati put a hand on Martin’s shoulder.

“Safe? SAFE? WHERE YOU ARE GOING IS LITERALLY THE OPPOSITE OF SAFE!” he screamed “First Mate, surely you know better?! Surely you won’t stand by and allow the captain to kill us all?!!”

“You’re overreacting,” Felix crossed his arms.

“Maybe you need some calming tea,” Ellie suggested coldly “Very soon.”

“Please don’t do this,” Martin begged “Please don’t do this. Please. I don’t want you all to die. Don’t do this.”

“We’ll be fine,” May insisted “You’re hyperventilating.”

“No!” he banged his hand on the table “Don’t kill us all! Don’t do it! Architect forgive me for my sins, I’m too young to die!”

Parvati took the drama king by the arm and escorted him out. Hopefully she would fare better at alleviating his fears. In the meantime, May decided it was the perfect time to repair her armor. Using what little she remembered Parvati telling her, the captain fixed a chip in her helmet, refitted some bracers from a dead corporate to stick to her short arms and cobbled together a chestplate that wouldn’t chafe. May’s greaves, though in similarly bad condition, were left untouched, as the woman left to raid the fridge. When she finished, Parvati was already busy salvaging Felix’s armor (what remained of it, anyway) and the captain didn’t want to add to the engineer’s workload.

Instead, May sat by the illuminator, watching the universe pass her by, knowing that with every second, she got closer and closer to a decisive confrontation. The weight of every colonist still asleep was on her shoulders. The captain could barely sleep that night, staring into the darkness with open eyes. First Ellie, now Phineas. May’s crew had gotten injured a hundred times before, she was no stranger to stitches and surgery, but never before had her friend been captured. The captain knew she had to make some sort of plan, coordinate the attack, but all she could think of was the endless scope of her failure. It’s not like she had anything to really think about. Everything would be revealed in due time.

In the morning of the next day, the Unreliable docked on Tartarus. Rather than blow them up on sight, the officials began to process a landing violation.

“It will take anywhere from three weeks to eight months,” said the overworked guard over holocomm “Thank you for your patience.”

“And how’d you know I’m not supposed to be here?” May took the opportunity to annoy him “Oh, what about you? Maybe you’re really an alien impostor! Or a uniform thief!”

“Your ship is not within the authorized vessel registry,” the corporate droned “Therefore, you should not be here.”

“Are you authorized to be here? Anyone can wear fancy armor!” May continued trolling “You have the voice of a janitor! I bet you stole the helmet from the showers!”

“I. Stole. Nothing!” the man shouted and lifted up his badge “This is my authorization, you dissident trash! Look upon it, and know that I am an upstanding, professional, loyal worker AND I DID YOUR MOTHER!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” the captain chuckled, suppressing a twinge of discomfort. Her holographic shroud acquired a new disguise. “Nobody should have to suffer such indignity.”

“I’ll show you indignity, Philosophist!” the guard yelled before disconnecting the call. Just in time, too, or May would’ve lectured him on assuming every dissident shared the same religion.

As Parvati, Felix and May slowly walked right out of their ship, somehow perfectly disguised and arousing exactly zero suspicion, the captain kept wondering why the guard’s comment about her mother made her so cross. It’s not like May loved the woman who had abandoned her child because of an easily-fixable cosmetic defect of the leg.

But May’s mind had jumped not to that figure she couldn’t even remember, but Anastasiya.

(oh)

(oh!)

(oh shit, that makes perfect sense!)

The three dissidents, er guards on patrol, move along nothing to see here, aligned themselves and boarded an elevator in an orderly fashion. May’s mental debate continued.

(that’s just an impulse. She’s your neighbor)

(if HAM was my dad after we spent a year together, then maybe . . .)

(psh, loser. Ann doesn’t care about you like that)

(Nate didn’t either. Doesn’t change my feelings towards him)

The spacers arrived on the lower level. May looked around, seeing no way further down. Fortunately, Parvati’s eyesight saved them from floundering around like they didn’t belong.

“Access to the Labyrinth restricted. Please present identification,” a guard stopped the trio at a much more sinister and dark elevator.

So that’s what the lower levels of Tartarus were called. Or was Tartarus the planet and Labyrinth the prison? Idiot colonists . . .

“What do you mean? I was ordered down there to guard mr. Welles!” Felix bluffed “Me and my buddies too!”

“I have no such information. Please present identification,” the woman droned.

“We just transferred from Auntie Cleo’s- wait, are you saying that our paperwork HASN’T ARRIVED?!!” Felix let out the loudest gasp “How dare they!”

“I’d like to speak to your manager,” Parvati added very menacingly.

“What company is so lousy as to have produced you?” May contributed to the conversation.

“. . . you may pass,” the guard declared.

“Thank you for your assistance,” Felix replied smoothly, but May pushed him into the elevator before he began flirting.

The lower level was very quiet. The captain could hear her own footsteps echo in the wide hall. On each side she saw cells barred with some kind of forcefield. The inmates were placid, most sitting on their beds, staring straight ahead. May spotted IV drips and hypodermic needles stuck in their arms. The cells were clean like hospital rooms, only one had a large vomit stain, the prisoner there sobbing soundlessly in one corner. So the barriers were soundproof. There were no guards, only mechanicals that floated lazily in preprogrammed patterns. May deliberately avoided looking at them.

Whatever guards there were stood on their places as silently as the prisoners. Felix got the bright idea of saluting them, which miraculously diverted suspicion from the three infiltrators.

The shroud clicked and suddenly the disguise wore off. Parvati spotted a dark corner stacked with crates and pulled her teammates towards it. As the trio huddled behind the crates, waiting for the holographic shroud to recharge, Felix was assigned as the lookout.

The shroud readied itself again with agonizing slowness and all May could do was count her own heartbeats. Then - footsteps. Felix crouched down. He didn’t need to say anything and Parvati elbowed him when he tried. The captain glared at her disguise. Even if it worked, what then? The guards would surely remove the trio from the Labyrinth for blatant unprofessionalism at the very least, what with them squatting behind some crates for no reason (what reason can there really be to squat behind some random crates?). And shooting them would just raise the alarm. May needed her time-juice topped up. She didn’t even know what she was waiting for, but she just knew she had to.

The footsteps grew fainter. The guards had found nothing of interest in the crates, and the infiltrators remained undiscovered.

Parvati breathed a sigh of relief and the adventurers got on with their search.

They did not have to go for long.

Before May was an enormous monitor over the entire wall, composed of several screens. Impressive decor for a villain’s lair, for sure. The screen flared to life. May flinched and drew her pistol, resisting the urge to cover her ears from the sudden loud static.

“Enjoying your visit, dissidents?” Chairman Rockwell spoke in a bored monotone, glancing somewhere to the side “I sincerely hope you are, for you will never leave.”

“How did-” Parvati began.

“I’ve been expecting you,” Rockwell turned to examine his foes “Let’s see . . . the cute little captain, her smarmy mechanic - I’ll be sure to give my condolences to Junlei - and the captain’s boytoy. I thought I’d find a good babysitter for that brat on the Groundbreaker, but it seems all their “neutrality” is actually a smokescreen for dissent. I shall endeavor to rectify that - after dealing with mr. Welles here, of course.”

“Babysitter?!” Felix yelled incredulously “Oh my fucking- you little-! Little-!”

“What are you doing to Phineas?” May squared her shoulders.

“Why haven’t you killed him yet?” Parvati asked the much more important question.

“What for? He has shared much of his research with the Holdings’ Board - dare I say he’s coming around,” Rockwell smiled faintly “Once he is presentable, we can make him publicly repent. Won’t that be a sight to see, eh?”

“Bastard!” May shouted.

“I’ll crush your skull under my boot!” Felix promised.

“I’d like to see you try, sonny,” the chairman raised his eyebrows disbelievingly “But the new and improved warden might not like that.”

“Improved?” Parvati sputtered, seeming to catch on to something that eluded May “Is-”

But the captain was the first to notice the vastly more important detail of being surrounded.

That was no big deal. May just slowed time to a crawl, spun around a little and cleared the room. Her crew were even intact by the end! She felt more than a little winded, though.

The adventurers ran out of the room the only way they could - down. Despite the prison being super high-tech, they still had stairs for some reason.

The spacers arrived in a spacious warehouse-like room, filled with ceiling-high racks of cryopods. May glimpsed Andre Riviera inside one, but upon closer inspection they all were empty. She heard Parvati gasp and take a step back.

“What’s wrong?” Felix asked, waving his grenade launcher around.

“Bad memories,” Parvati muttered.

“And not only,” said May, gaze glued to the far corner of her room.

There, she saw a giant death robot. A giant death robot THAT WAS IN THE SAME ROOM AS HER.

May’s knees dissolved into putty and she gaped, open-mouthed as the mechanical charged its glowing death ray. Its legs formed the arch of a doorway and its torso was the side of a spacious bathroom stall. In one hand it had a shield as tall as itself and from the other, it fired the death ray.

(run)

(run!)

Parvati yelped as she scrambled out of the way of the blast. Felix blasted the robot, getting a full volley in, but the mechanical put its shield up and the grenades just chipped off some paint. May remained where she stood, the robot’s overwhelming presence robbing her of breath. It would take nothing for it to destroy her - only a stomp of its foot.

The robot realized that too.

May had no idea what she was doing, much less what was happening around her. All that mattered was the colossus looming before her. The captain pointed her pistol at its knee, but she couldn’t remember how the gun worked. Where did she put her finger?

The robot charged at May, ramming down everything in its path. The captain turned to run, away from the monstrous mechanical, but her legs refused to carry her. She fell onto her back, scrambling to get up, willing time to slow for her.

It did not.

The impact sent May flying. She impacted the metal shelves headfirst, her vision winking out and her mouth suddenly filling with broken glass and splintered plastic. Her ears filled with static as she plummeted downwards. May’s breath hitched as her feet got stuck in the frame, shaking her violently and leaving her tp hang like a ragdoll.

May had no idea what happened next, because all of a sudden she was on the cold gray floor, her vision slowly ebbing back to her. Somewhere between the shelves she could hear the sounds of fighting and the robot’s loud, clanging footfalls. The captain coughed, peeling glass shards from her gums. Even her tongue was pierced by something sharp. May felt a jolt of fear go through her at the thought of her cheeks being poked through.

The captain stood, feeling herself move like a marionette, her ankles throbing. Her body felt like a stuffed cloth doll. Its exact boundaries were fuzzy and her legs felt like they could bend in any direction. May wanted to throw up. She took the shrink ray from her belt, looking around for her other pistol. That was a senseless endeavor - turning her head only made her more nauseous and she couldn’t see the little bauble anywhere.

The mechanical revealed iself again, its legs slightly charred. Felix was running from it, trying to hide under the lowest row of cryopods. The robot kept chasing him, trying to poke him with its foot. May felt her nausea mounting and she too turned to run.

The robot turned towards her, Felix entirely forgotten. It made a crackling sound, like it was priming its servos, and blasted May with its ray gun. The captain threw herself to the ground, scraping it with her knuckles to crawl as far as she could. She tried rolling to the right, but that only left her flailing on one side.

The ray scorched her feet, instantly dissolving all the rickety armor and worn clothing. May’s left leg, which was positioned on top of her right, spasmed uncontrollably and she could feel her skin sloughing off, covering the ground in a thin film of residue.

May could hear screams and exclamations of dread. After a second, she realized she was the only one screaming. The captain slumped onto her back, gripping the floor. Her head lolled weakly to the side. The battle continued, Parvati and Felix exchanging hurried orders, some kind of rudimentary strategy forming between them. The robot continued its inexorable march towards the spacers, their annihilation a certainty.

The captain pushed herself up and vomited, staining the metal floor with a yellow-orange paste.

She saw a wide door on the other side of the room, faintly visible through the cryopods. May attempted to stand, but fell on her knees instead. She crawled towards her salvation, seeing nothing else. The sounds of battle were somewhere to the right, and every creak of metal made her heart jolt in her chest, but May pushed herself ever onwards. She could still escape. She could still escape. She could be free.

Slowly but surely, the door began to loom ahead, the captain pushing herself up on the rack of pods. Her legs were stiff as twigs. A cold sweat covered her back, but she could still escape. She took a step, letting her hand drop from the shelf. Then another and another, until she could grab the handle with all her might and yank the passage open.

She almost fell, dizzying light burning her eyes. May steadied herself on the door, smiling to herself. Freedom. The storeroom before had become strangely silent, she realized.

May looked back.

The robot stared straight at her, unblinking. It kicked its foot, throwing Felix towards her.

He didn’t even stir.

May slammed the door shut.

Somewhere up ahead was the chairman, the captain’s memory helpfully supplied her. That man- that man who-

The captain curled her fingers around the shrink ray. She crept closer, her feet numb, but already starting to obey her more. This room was richly decorated, brimming with color compared to the warehouse. In the middle was a balcony, a computer on a table seeming to hang over it. May stuck to the shadows, quietly ascending the marble staircase one step at a time.

The chairman stood on the balcony, fiddling with a rifle. He had it pointed at the floor, trying to tear something off. May charged, aiming her pistol right at his fat face. He squealed like a stuck pig, firing away wildly, trying to raise his gun to meet her.

The captain felt a bullet smash into her foot and she toppled, falling right to the chairman’s feet. Her fingers loosened and the shrink ray fell out of her grip. She felt herself grow very weak, almost weightless as darkness gripped her.

“Assistant!” Phineas shouted “Oh fuck . . .”

“Well now,” said Rockwell, sounding far away “That takes care of your little experiment.”

“Her name is May,” Phineas snarled back “Congradulations, you just signed Halcyon’s death warrant.”

“We’ll see about that,” the chairman replied, shuffling away.

May felt blindly for her pistol. It hadn’t fallen that far from her hand.

“Lieutenant, send a cleanup crew,” Rockwell sat down “And fast! There’s a corpse next to my chair, for all your security is worth!”

“At once, sir,” a man replied.The room went quiet.

May raised her head. Rockwell sat right in front of her, fixing his sleeves with a grimace. Her fingers curled around the shrink ray.

The captain took the opportunity to downsize him.

Unfortunately, the shrink ray was out of ammo. The chairman turned, moving to grab his rifle. May pushed herself up on the back of his chair. Rockwell tried to shove her off, staring at her as if she was a ghost. He took aim, hands shaking.

May slowed time and bonked him in the head.

And again.

And again.

As it turned out, the shrink ray was a very hard bludgeon, its small size hiding its true potential.

“Hey! Get me outta here!” Phineas reminded May of his presence. She rummaged through the chairman’s pockets and produced a keycard.

She swiped it right on the first try and released her buddy.

“Neat trick you pulled there, assistant,” Phineas sounded a little winded “I thought for a second all was lost.”

“What trick?” May stared at him.

“Nevermind,” he shook his head tiredly “Give me the shrink ray, please. The nice fellows here may have sprained my wrist.”

May handed over her pistol, taking the chairman’s gun. The dissidents waited silently for the cleanup crew to arrive. As soon as the three guards arrived, they were quickly dispatched of. Phineas downsized the dead chairman as well, in order to hide the fact of his death (piles of gore all look the same), then looked over the terminal.

“The mechanical warden is deactivated,” he announced “We can fetch your friends now.”

May nodded. She ran right down the stairs, almost tripping once. The storeroom was very quiet and May tiptoed around the giant death robot. It could spring on her at any moment.

She knelt next to Felix and poked him lightly, pulling him onto his side. He groaned weakly, squinting up at May.

“What’s up, boss?” he coughed.

“You okay?” May prodded him “Hurt? Will walk?”

“Huh? Yeah, I can stand just fine,” Felix demonstrated that by getting up mostly unassisted “Where’s Parvati?”

May motioned to where Phineas was helping the engineer fashion a bandage out of a former pant leg.

Felix waved to them and bounded over to help. Predictably, he was soon told to stand aside. May watched the perimeter for any enemies, rifle in hands. She felt fine, just a little faint. Her legs weren’t even stiff anymore.

“Now that we are all assembled, only one question remains: how are we getting out of this labyrinth?” Phineas asked.

May waved her holographic shroud.

“It can only conceal three people at a time,” he shook his head.

“You can play the hostage,” Felix suggested “We’ll be, um, escorting you . . ?”

“We can pretend we’re tryin’ to lure out Ellie and Martin,” Parvati added.

“Conserve power by concealing two?” May pondered, waving the device around.

“Oh? And who will be the second prisoner?” Phineas raised an eyebrow.

May pointed at Parvati.

“That could go just fine, but keep your guns on the ready in case it doesn’t,” Phineas gave the shrink ray to the captain. Parvati offered her flamer to Felix, but he refused it in favor of the good old grenade launcher. May was forced to carry the glorified lighter, tossing the Chairman’s rifle somewhere far away.

Parvati and Phineas were bound with scavenged handcuffs that didn’t actually limit them in any way. Felix and May cloaked themselves, looking just like any regular guards. The bizarre procession calmly took the elevator to an upper level (and calmly only because Phineas had a serious limp).

“What’s the meaning of this?” a real guard stopped them.

“The prisoners will draw out all the remaining bastards on their ship!” Felix proclaimed “And then we’ll kill them all!”

“Fortunately, the captain is dead,” May added monotonely.

“Yeah, it would’ve been hard to chain that motherfucker,” Felix nodded cheerfully.

Parvati downcast her eyes, looking smaller than usual. Her shoulders were hunched and she fidgeted in her bonds, fake as they were.

“A good plan, soldier! Let us escort you to the landing pad,” the guard motioned for his comrades, clearly not seeing no fault with the idea. For fuck’s sake, he didn’t even ask whether the chairman had authorized it! This was why the Board was falling from the efforts of someone like May.

The guards escorted the disguised dissidents right to the top. Once, when the shroud’s power had to recharge, a new arrival had asked for their authorizations (possibly the only intelligent being currently on Tartarus), but Felix said theirs got damaged while subduing the dissidents.

“Let me contact them through the comm,” Felix commanded “And show them their captured allies. They’ll think we’re freeing the bastards for their surrender, but it’s a trick!”

“How clever,” another brainless moron nodded.

Felix patted his chest, feeling right in his element “And then we’ll have the whole crew!”

The two disguised killers and their play-along prisoners were brought onto a raised platform and the Unreliable was hailed for the second time.

“Processed our landing violation already?” Ellie’s ugly mug appeared, coffe cup in hand “I thought I had a month yet.”

“Rest assured, your landing violation is being procured- I-I mean processed!” Felix attempted to appear professional. As usual, he failed. “We have your friends! Surrender now, and we’ll send those two we defeated away!”

“Like you’d really do that,” Ellie snorted. May shoved Parvati into the screen “Oh. Hey there, mate. Got yourself in a bit of trouble?”

May began sweating. What did she have to do to get Ellie to recognize the ruse.

“You have not a- no choice,” the captain began shakily “Your captain are- is very dead. Very utterly and totally dead! Surrender, dissident!”

(how am I not dead already?!)

“I see,” she nodded “Very well then. You may wait for me at the ramp. Corporate scum.”

The prisoners were marched off to the ship. True to her word, Ellie stepped outside, Martin standing next to her with empty eyes.

“Drop your weapons, now. Hands up!” a guard declared.

Ellie smirked and whipped out her shotgun.

May slowed time, taking out the shrink ray and blasting a contingent of three guards right next to the spacecraft. To her great displeasure, the shrink ray charged up very slowly after each shot, not giving her enough time to snipe anyone farther away.

Time sprang back like a rubber band and the landing bay turned into a shooting range. The pretend prisoners were ushered inside, Felix and Ellie staying behind to cover their escape. May shot another guard before grabbing Martin and getting the hell out of there. Ellie and Felix continued after her and the gang of outlaws lifted off right away.

“I can’t believe I went along with your plan, captain,” Ellie dusted herself off.

“That was wild,” Parvati nodded.

“But it went spectacularly well,” Phineas noted “Now, I’m sorry to bother you further, but I might have an infected wound. And possible poisoning - those interrogators were such dedicated swine!”

“Why am I not surprised,” Ellie shook her head “Come on, I promise you won’t have to suffer for long. Parvati, you too - I dunno if you know that, but arms aren’t supposed to bend that way!”

“As you say, doc,” Parvati shrugged, her hand flapping around like a leaf in the wind. Since she was not May, that was a very bad sign.

“I should hope you are as good at healing as you are with that shotgun,” Phineas smiled, holding his wrist. Both of the patients headed after Ellie, disappearing up the stairs (though not without difficulty).

“Don’t you need attention too?” Felix motioned to May’s ruined feet “You were thrown around a lot by that robot.”

The captain looked down at her legs. The sight of burned flesh and dried blood evoked no feelings in her. The wounds barely stung.

“I’ll ask later,” she shrugged “What about you?”

“Oh, nothing to worry about,” he rubbed his head, then stared warily at Martin “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“He’s rebooting,” ADA explained “He tends to do that when exposed to sights his corporate programming does not cover.”

“But he’s getting better,” May added, taking a deep breath. Come to think of it, maybe the time was right for a nap.

“If you say so,” Felix glanced at Martin again. Martin glanced back, eyes wide as the holes in a skull. “Um, I’ll escort to your room. Come on, I’m not a ghost, I won’t suck out your soul. Even if I was a ghost, you don’t have any soul to suck! Wait, that sounded wrong . . .”

May stood in silence, listening to Felix’s chatter and footsteps disappear behind walls. She walked slowly to her own room, feeling something within her left foot shift and creak with every step. Huh. The scar from her old third foot had a weird effect on her, especially upon re-injury.

The stars were bright that day, the void of space empty, as always. May felt just as empty, but it was not a bad feeling. Rather, she had nothing to worry about. Phineas was rescued, the revolution secure. Her friends hadn’t died to the giant death robot. Ann and Nate were still waiting for her, as they always had. And May- she felt alright. Just fine.

May slowly sat down onto her bed, pulling the blanket over her. The synthetic cloth irritated her left ankle. The captain did not dwell much on that - she closed her eyes and let the darkness take her.

In the morning - and it must’ve been the morning, right? - the captain crawled out of her bed and faceplanted straight into the floor. She was nauseuous, and so, so thirsty. May groaned softly, watching the world swim idly before her eyes. For the life of her, she couldn’t make out which direction was up. Her body seemed feather-light, and the room far too cold. She pushed herself up on clammy, shivering fingers, then weak knees, then got to her feet.

“Good morning, captain,” ADA noted mellowly “Had a nice nap?”

May took a step, bumping her hand against the wall. Dark spots pirouetted across her sight. She took a deep breath, attempting to steady her speeding heart. Her legs were like jelly and seemed rooted to the floor.

“Captain?” ADA repeated.

May put her left foot forward, leaning onto the wall. Her head lolled to the side. The lamplight was too bright, and obscured the true distance to the door. Her left ankle slid sideways and May slid with it, slumping onto the carpet.

“Is something the matter?” the AI asked politely.

May stared at the ceiling, feeling a haze coming over her. Was something the matter? She wasn’t sure anymore. The light blazed into her eyes for a moment more, and then she settled in the darkness, her senses dulling.

“Captain? Are you alright?” the robot asked again.

May stared straight up, her eyelids creeping downwards. Her back was cold, and melted into the floor. It was so cold . . .

“Captain?”

So, so cold . . .

“Captain!”


	77. Revenge of the Plot Twist!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here are the three obligatory ending plot twists, foreshadowed since the Christmas special. the sequel is still pending, but will exist eventually. the more I think about Outer Worlds' happy ending, the more horrific and disastrous it seems.

May woke up in a hospital. Nothing unusual about that. Her leg throbbed horribly, as if something inside her foot was writhing, clawing its way out. The captain groaned and sat up, throwing off the sheets.

That was a mistake.

May gazed, open-mouthed at what was once her left foot. Now it was bandage-wrapped bacon, stitched together from misshapen lumps of flesh. She shuddered, imagining what yet awaited under those wrappers. Her leg was bent at the ankle, bloated at the joint, as if weighed down by the long-gone third foot. The skin was wrinkled and bunched up above the ankle, but below, it stretched grotesquely, like the plastic film used to cover vegetables. May didn’t even know whether she had any toes left and the pain discouraged her from peeling the bandage away.

One thing was certain, though: May would never walk with this foot. And cybernetics cost a lot of money.

Money May did not have.

-

“What I do not understand,” Eva Chartrand said disdainfully “Is why we cannot simply jettison the colonists into space like UDL originally planned to. I see no reason why the Hope was even allowed to remain intact. The undue population boom the dissidents hope to unleash is utter madness.”

“Perhaps the colonists might yet prove useful to us,” Violet Newberry consoled her “With the secrets gathered from Mr. Welles, the revival of these lost souls is not yet beyond us. Perhaps some of them are worthy of bringing back.”

“How lucky the former Chairman managed to get that info out before his untimely demise,” Eva sighed, shuffling after the much younger Violet “Remind me, why are we looking for them again?”

“The dissident captain’s two friends would undoubtedly provide a fresh perspective on how to deal with her,” the woman waved her badge at the camera and it obediently deactivated.

“If she does not listen to reason, perhaps seeing her old friends on our side will give her new perspective,” the scientist noted “Or give her more reason to go after our company.”

“We shall see,” Violet smiled to herself, stepping up to the cryobay console.

“It seems that Nathanael Blake is available for revival,” she declared after a few rounds of typing.

Eva squinted up at his profile “A young man in good physical condition. Have him sent to the ship. His revival need not be immediate.”

“Good, good. Please return and begin preparations,” Violet dismissed her “I will soon follow, but I must know the status of the other potential convert.”

“As you say, agent,” Eva eyed the woman warily before turning heel and disappearing into the empty ship.

Violet looked up to the rows upon rows of cryopods, a glint in her amber eyes. How foolish of Phineas Welles to bring the Hope to Terra Two. Anything could happen to those colonists, now that their ship was floating defenselessly in the sky. And if that ‘anything’ did happen, well, the dissidents’ whole plan was up in smoke.

How unfortunate that Violet would not be the one to free these poor trapped souls.

-

“This, as you may have already noticed, was my old lab,” Phineas gestured, his wrist evidently healed “Since my cozy hideaway is compromised and I’m still working out my next travel destination, we’ll have to make use of it again.”

May nodded, trying her best to keep up with him, a crutch in each hand. At least she wasn’t in a wheelchair yet, though with the Hope’s sheer size, that might not be the case for much longer.

“It is very unfortunate that I have made no notes from which you may learn, but I think hands-on experience to be a much more noteworthy teacher,” he continued expositing “Therefore, your first lesson will be to observe a revival.”

“Okay,” May nodded “Is it like a lecture? Will I need to take notes?”

“If that’s what gets your brain going,” Phineas shrugged, then turned to a rather cluttered table close to the far wall “Ah, a relic of another time. Haven’t cleaned this in thirty years.”

May laughed. She came closer to inspect the table, crutches clanging against the floor. The smooth white surface was piled with grisly trophies from past colonists lucky enough to be chosen for revival.

“I can’t believe I kept this,” Phineas sighed, rotating a prosthetic hip in his hands “In hindsight, the weight of my failures helped me focus. Grisly, I know.”

“Entirely as expected from a dissident,” May peered at the fake bone “I’m still surprised you don’t sacrifice babies and bathe in the blood of virgins.”

Phineas huffed out a weak laugh “There are too few virgins in Halcyon for that to be profitable.”

“Because all the lonely nerds never arrived,” May noted.

“That can be rectified quite soon,” Phineas carefully moved the assorted mementos onto the floor. May put her crutch against the table and began helping.

Ow. Her knee wouldn’t bend at all! Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. Bastard death robot . . .

May sighed, leaning onto the table, picking up some hairpins to put into a neat pile. A red, a blue, an orange-

Wait.

May turned the hairpin around in her hand. It was worn, the paint chipping, dark metal exposed underneath.

“What did you find?” Phineas leaned closer “Oh, I see. It belonged to an older woman, the twenty-fourth test subject, I believe. Shame what happened . . . I don’t think she has any family on board.”

“She did,” said May quietly “You monster.”

She felt just fine, looking at everything that remained of her mother. All that she wanted was to break out in a bout of hysterical laughter, and choke on it. And maybe leave, somewhere so far away none of Halcyon’s troubles would ever find her. Somewhere where she could watch Halcyon burn, with a generous heaping of popcorn.

If not for Ann, she’d be dead. Now Ann had died so that May could live. Ironic, no?

(but if she knew, would she find May worth it?)

Now May was the assistant of her mother’s killer. Here she thought she could find a just cause to support. Here she thought she could finally become a real scientist, not a discount test tube washer. Here she thought her sacrifices had meaning.

As always, she was a stupid child, and an even greater fool for thinking she could ever do something worthwhile. So much for having a living family.

Somewhere in the afterlife, Andre Riviera was laughing.


End file.
